


Off The Record - One Shots

by sarahkwut



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018), Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018) RPF, Sabrina - Fandom
Genre: One Shot, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-01-02 02:17:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 43,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21153950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahkwut/pseuds/sarahkwut
Summary: Missing scenes from my completed piece, 'Off The Record.'





	1. Move In With Me

**Author's Note:**

> I had several requests over the last few months for some 'Off The Record' missing scenes/one-shots. Seems you all missed Sabrina, the tenacious reporter, and Nicholas, the rough but tender detective. I had some downtime at work recently so - I made it happen! Never mind what else I should be doing... I don't know how frequently I'll update, but expect one to pop up from time to time!

Sabrina smiled at the sound of the front door opening, followed quickly by the sound of Dublin’s toenails on the hardwood. She listened as the door shut, as Nick’s footsteps made their way to her. She was leaning against the counter with a coffee mug in hand when he entered the kitchen. 

“Good morning, beautiful.” 

“Good morning, Detective.” She held up a mug. “Strong and black, just like you like it.” 

“Sometimes, I think the most beautiful sight in the entire world is you, standing in my kitchen, offering me a cup of coffee,” he declared. He accepted it, then leaned in to kiss her good morning. “But then you do something else and I change my mind.” 

“Do you just wake up with smooth words on your tongue?” Sabrina asked. “Or do you use your morning walks with Dublin to dream them up?” 

“Both,” Nick teased. He gave Dublin a treat from the canister on the counter. She took it and wandered off. “Want some eggs?”

“Yes, please.” Sabrina checked the time. “I don’t have time for anything else. I have an editorial meeting at nine.” 

“I’ve got to get to the station,” Nick agreed. “The sooner the better.” He didn’t mention it, but Sabrina knew what he meant - Harvey’s case was sucking up much of his time, and while he could get lost in the files building a case against Harvey they didn’t need as they had his admission of guilt, he was dedicated to being home at a decent hour to have dinner and spend the evening with her. “Fried or scrambled?” 

“Fried. I’ll make an egg and cheese sandwich and take it with me. Want one?” 

“Please,” Nick agreed. “You toast the bread, I’ll work on the eggs.” 

Sabrina watched him out of the corner of her eye as he worked. He had been out of his sling for a couple of weeks now, and the range of motion in his shoulder seemed to improve with each passing day. His surgeon was pleased with the healing, said he may never have his old range of motion back to its fullest, but that he could expect at least ninety percent. She didn’t care if it moved at all, so long as he was alive. 

He took a few steps to retrieve a pan from the clean dishes in the dishwasher and she noted his faint limp. 

“Care to tell me where your boot is, Scratch?” 

“Somewhere in the bedroom,” he dismissed. “I’m not wearing that thing today, so give up your quest now.” 

“The doctor said…” 

“That I can start going without it some,” he finished. “Hence why I’m not wearing it to work.” 

“That’s all day, Nicholas.” Sabrina fixed him with a serious expression. “‘Some’ is not ‘all day.’” 

“I hate that thing, Sabrina. It slows me down.” 

“You wouldn’t have needed surgery if you would have worn it and taken care of your foot properly the first time,” she informed him. 

“I had bigger things to worry about than a broken foot,” he reminded her. 

“I know that, but you still need…” 

“Make a deal?” Nick interrupted. This was a near constant argument between them lately and he was nearing the end of his patience, even if he knew she was only looking out for him. She raised an expectant eyebrow. “I’ll wear that figure eight brace they gave me at my last appointment. My boot - my actual boot - will fit over it. I’ll wear the ones that lace up over my ankle to give some added support. We’ll both be happy - no ortho boot for me, some form of brace for you.” 

“Fine,” Sabrina agreed. “But if your foot bothers you tonight, I will say ‘told you so.’” 

“I would expect nothing less,” Nick replied. “Want to meet me at Cee’s for lunch today?” 

“Can’t - I’m driving out to the edge of town to interview Mrs. Peters about her new business venture. She’s making me lunch.” 

“What’s her new business?” Nick wondered. 

“She’s starting a farm for children with special needs or that are going through medical treatments,” Sabrina told him as she put two slices of bread in the toaster. “They’ll be able to come visit, pet the animals, explore. It sounds pretty amazing.” 

“Don’t come back with a llama or something, okay?” he asked with a twinkle in her eye. 

“Why would I need a llama when I’ve got Dublin?” she countered. “I’m occupied for lunch, but it turns out I’m free for dinner.” 

“You asking me on a date, Spellman?” 

“Call it what you want,” she shrugged. “Chances are pretty good you’ll get lucky if you agree though.” 

“Now there’s some incentive,” he teased. “Date night it is.” He flipped the eggs in the pan. Dublin trotted back in and went to Sabrina. She nudged Sabrina’s hand, indicating she wanted to be pat. Sabrina obliged. Nick grinned a bit and seized the opportunity to bring up something he had been meaning to talk to her about for a while. “Speaking of animals, don’t you have a cat that belongs to you?” 

“Salem,” Sabrina sighed. “I’ve been an awful cat owner these last few months, but the humans in my life have been more important.” She gave him a sweet smile he returned. 

“You could bring Salem here,” he mentioned. “We might have a few rough days with him and Dublin while Dublin gets used to him being in her space, but they’ll be okay. They got along well enough when I’d stay at your aunts’ place with Dublin.” 

“I could,” Sabrina reasoned. “I probably should. Zelda has always hated him and that new beagle of hers spends a lot of time chasing after him. Hilda likes him just fine, but he’s my cat…” 

“While you’re picking up Salem, you could get the rest of your stuff,” Nick continued. “Your clothes, books, any furniture you might want to bring over…” 

Sabrina looked at him. He looked right back, waiting for her response. 

“Get the rest of my stuff,” she repeated. “As in… All of my stuff?” 

“It’s silly, really, the amount of time you spend wondering if this shirt or those shoes are here or at the mortuary. May as well have it all in one place.” 

“But… That would mean… I – live – here.” 

“Don’t you already?” Nick countered. “You haven’t spent the night at the mortuary since before Thanksgiving.” 

“Before Harvey tried to kill you,” Sabrina clarified. 

“I was going for a lighter description, but yes,” Nick agreed. “You haven’t spent the night at the mortuary since before I was shot. I assume you live here, but it would be nice to make it official.” 

“You’re asking me to move in?” Sabrina clarified. “Like - officially?” 

“Pretty sure I’m not stammering, Spellman.” 

The bread popped from the toaster. Sabrina ignored it. Nick turned off the stove eye, satisfied the eggs were done, and gave Sabrina his full attention. 

“You’re not stammering,” Sabrina confirmed. “I just – you want me to move in.” 

“I really didn’t think this would be this hard of a sell,” Nick said. “We’ve been living together for a few months now, in case you haven’t realized. We’ve been pretty domestic about it all, too. You made me a grocery list just this past weekend.” 

“And you called me from the grocery store three times because you didn’t know what things were,” Sabrina couldn’t help but point out. 

“You should have specified what kind of garlic you meant,” Nick shot back. “You can’t just write ‘garlic’ and expect me to know that meant a fresh bulb. There’s garlic salt, garlic powder, minced garlic in both shaker former and jar form…” 

“Garlic is garlic, Nick. It shouldn’t have been that complicated. And you make pizza all the time - with fresh garlic! Why on earth you couldn’t figure that out...” 

“See?” Nick waved his hands to emphasize his point. “We’re bickering like an old married couple over grocery shopping that’s already been done. And I believe just last night you had a few things to say about my laundry habits, never mind the fact that you came home with almond milk and thought that was an acceptable substitute for actual milk.” 

“You’re messy, Nicholas, and now that you have two working arms, there is no reason you can’t pull open a drawer and put your shirts - that I had already folded - in them.” 

“Again, my point is proven,” he said, eyes twinkling. He went to her and put his hands on her waist. Hers rested on his shoulders as she smiled up at him. “Let’s make this official. Move in. I’ll help you get your stuff this weekend. I’ll make Ambrose help move any furniture. I might even consider putting my laundry away – if you buy real milk.” 

“Okay,” Sabrina agreed. “I guess I do live here. We’ll make it official this weekend.” 

He leaned down to kiss her. 

“Thank you.” He kissed her forehead. “I don’t intend to wake up without you ever again, Sabrina.” He tucked her hair behind her ear. “I love you, Spellman.” 

“I love you, Scratch.” She wrapped her arms around him, overwhelmed in the moment by just how much she loved him. He was right - she had lived with him for months. It was only a matter of a change of address form and a few moving boxes now. “Even if you’re messy and won’t drink my plant-based milk.” 

He pulled her in as close as he could. The first thing he had done when he was cleared to stop using his sling was hug Sabrina properly. The novelty of being able to put both arms around her again still hadn’t worn off. He hoped it never did. 

“Your almond milk is flavored water,” he told her, still holding her close. “Literally. They soak almonds in water and call it milk and that’s the biggest racket the health industry has going for it. That and kale.” 

Sabrina snorted back a laugh. 

“You said that about cauliflower last week,” she reminded him. 

“Last week you tried to convince me cauliflower made a good pizza crust.” 

“I did choose the wrong thing to take a stand on,” she agreed. “At least with you.” She kissed him one more time before she begrudgingly pulled away. “Cheddar cheese or provolone on your sandwich, Scratch? We’ve got both. Because you bought both.” 

“Again, you just wrote ‘cheese,’” Nick said. “And I didn’t want to run the risk of calling again given the warm reception my last call got.” Sabrina rolled her eyes and put two more slices of bread in the toaster. 

“Cheddar or provolone?” 

“Cheddar,” Nick relented. “Pass me your coffee mug. I’ll pour it in a travel mug and top it off for you.” 

“Thank you,” Sabrina said as she offered him her cup. He winked at her and made sure to get her favorite travel mug from the cabinet. 

He would argue about cheese and garlic forever, as long as he got to argue about it with her.


	2. Nonna's Apartment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO GLAD y'all are excited about these oneshots! 
> 
> This one expands the days after Nick's Nonna passed away touched upon in the final 'Off the Record' update. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Nick sighed heavily.

His nonna hadn’t lived in her apartment in years yet her belongings seemed to have multiplied all the same. He had been emptying closets and opening drawers, trunks, and storage containers for hours, each one bringing forth more memories from his childhood. They were mostly good memories, but they hurt all the same. He tossed yet another scarf in the general direction of a donation box, checked the time, and decided he needed a break. He found Sabrina in the same place she had been all afternoon - in the living room, seated on the floor at the coffee table, looking through box after box of photographs.

“Where was this one taken?” she held up a photo of him as a child on the beach.

“Dewey Beach,” he answered, recalling yet another memory with a sharp pang of nostalgia. “Nonna took me there when I was ten or so.”

Sabrina studied him as though checking over him for a sign of injury. The last few weeks had been hard. Nonna had died the day after Valentine’s Day and Nick was struggling. He was short-tempered, especially with her, more withdrawn. She was both worried and working hard not to push him to talk to her, aware that everyone grieved in their own way and that what Nick was going through didn’t mean he didn’t love and care about her, but she felt the tension between them simmering just under the surface. It was getting harder to ignore.

“You were a really cute ten year old,” she offered. “But all the same, you’re a lot better looking now.” He cracked just a bit of a smile. “I’ve been sorting these photos as best I can. All of these are of you.” She put a hand on a large stack. “These are of your mother.” She pointed to another. “These are family photos - lots of photos of your grandfather in here, from before your mom was even born.” She pointed to another stack. “I don’t know who these people are, but maybe you can look through them later?”

“Maybe.” Nick pushed a hand through his hair. “You hungry? There’s a grocery store a few blocks down. I’ll go pick up something for dinner.”

“I could eat,” Sabrina agreed. “Do you just want to go out to eat, though? It seems like a lot of trouble, to cook after everything else we’ve been doing today.” Besides, they hadn’t left the apartment since yesterday morning’s coffee run and she had to talk Nick into that.

“I’m not in the mood to sit in a restaurant.” Sabrina held back a sigh. He was never in the mood to go out. Even a trip to Cee’s took coaxing these days. “Anything in particular you want?”

“Let’s order in,” she suggested. “It’s freezing out. If you don’t want to go out to dinner, why bother going into the cold at all?”

“I need some fresh air,” he said. “I won’t be gone long.”

He left then, no goodbye, no kiss, no nothing. She sat back against the couch and let out the sigh she had been holding in, a bit wounded by his lack of affection, just now and in general. He was hurting. She understood that. They had already been through so much, and while his grandmother’s death was expected, that didn’t make it easier. Still, she was frustrated. She didn’t know how to help him, and he wouldn’t let her. The only thing giving her comfort was the fact that he was still speaking to his therapist regularly, but even then she wondered if he was telling the woman the whole truth about how he was coping.

She busied herself with the photos, hoping the fresh air really would do him some good, that he would come back in a better mood. She had hoped that this trip would help him find some sort of closure around Nonna’s death. It seemed to be having the reverse effect though as he struggled through his grandmother’s things and drew more into himself. She blew out another breath as she shuffled the photos in her hand.

It was a bit odd, looking through photos of Nick’s family, sorting them, trying to figure out who was who. But it was the one thing he hadn’t snapped at her for helping with. Everything else she tried was met with a ‘leave that alone, I’ll do it later’ or ‘don’t touch those, I’ll go through them.’ He didn’t seem to want to look at the photos however, giving her curt answers when she asked about one, pushing aside any attempts she made to get him to join her. She had tried to help him with going through his grandmother’s bedroom closet earlier and he had ran her out within minutes with his short temper and curt words. She would have to say something to him soon, but how soon was too soon?

She didn’t know.

An hour passed.

She picked up her phone to see if she had missed a text from him. Nothing, save for a text from Roz who was in the process of interviewing for jobs anywhere but Greendale letting her know she hadn’t gotten the job she was up for in Dallas. Sabrina could only be but so disappointed for her. She understood that Roz needed to move on, start over, but she would miss her friend when she inevitably found something - she only just got her back.

Another half hour passed.

Worry started to settle in. She texted.

_Everything okay? You’ve been gone a while…_

When thirty more minutes passed without a response, she stood and started to pace. Even as ill tempered as he had been lately, he always replied to her quickly, understanding she worried after everything they had been through. She called him. It went to voicemail.

“It’s me. You’ve been gone a while and I’m getting a bit worried. Can you call me? Or text? Just let me know you’re okay. I love you.”

She sat back down on the old floral couch and waited, sure he would call, or at the very least, text. He could have ran into a friend or neighbor. That happened during their visit after New Year’s and then again when they were there for the funeral. He had grown up in this apartment, this neighborhood. Surely that’s what was keeping him - an old acquaintance or a friend of his grandmother’s stopped him to say hello and offer their condolences and continued chatting. Nick was polite. He wouldn’t just blow them off.

More time passed.

She tried his phone again. She didn’t leave a voicemail this time. She paced the apartment for another few minutes before she decided to go out to look for him. He had said the grocery store was a few blocks down. She could at least go there, see if the employees had seen him.

The winter air was unforgiving. It was in the twenties and the temperature was tumbling rapidly as the sun set. The wind was brisk, dropping the temperature even more. Dirty snow lined the streets. She was used to the cold, used to bundling up, but she didn’t know her surroundings and she had no idea where Nick could be,

She found the grocery store easily enough using her phone’s map app. She wandered the aisles for a bit, asked a couple of workers if they had seen him. Neither of them had. Her worry kicked up a few notches. She tried Nick’s phone again - no answer. It hit her then that she could use her phone to find his location. They shared their location as a by product of everything Harvey had done and she never really thought about it. Now, she was grateful.

She pulled off a glove to make it easier to navigate her phone screen as the touchscreen promise of her gloves didn’t seem to work as well as marketed. The cold numbed her hand almost instantly, but she tapped through the screen quickly. It took just a moment for Nick’s location to populate. She sighed in relief. He was at his Nonna’s, must have shown up after she left. She hurried back in the direction she had came.

“Nick?” she called, letting herself into the apartment. No answer. “Nick?”

She wandered into his Nonna’s bedroom. It was empty, the adjoining bathroom door open, the room dark. She went to their bedroom, the bedroom he had grown up in that still held a lot of his childhood memorabilia. It, too, was empty, but there, on the nightstand, attached to a charger, was his phone.

Her heart sunk.

“Dammit Nick!”

Scenario after scenario, each one worse than the next, played through her mind. She went back out, wandered through the streets, looked for any sign of Nick. She returned to the apartment and fretted. He had been gone for more than four hours now. It was approaching ten o’clock and her worry was astronomical. She could only pace, worry, wonder if she should call someone, report him missing. She knew his phone’s passcode. She could look up some of his New York friends’ numbers, give them a call.

She called Ambrose.

“Cousin,” he greeted. “To what do I owe this late hour phone call?”

“Nick is missing,” she blurted out. “I don’t know what to do, Ambrose.”

“Missing?” Ambrose repeated. “Define missing.”

“He left several hours ago, said he was going to the grocery store to get something for dinner. He was in a weird mood, has been for a while. I went out earlier and found the grocery store, but no one had seen him. We share our location and I checked, thought he was at the apartment, but his phone is on the nightstand - he left it and I didn’t hear it ring when I called because it’s on silent. I went back out, but I didn’t see him, and this city is huge...I don’t know where to look…”

“Okay, calm down,” Ambrose said in his Captain of the Greendale Police Department voice. “I’m sure Nick is fine. He’s smart, knows the city well. He probably got sidetracked, met up with an old friend, something like that....”

“But what if he’s hurt?” Sabrina countered. “Or what if someone from his past showed up? He’s arrested a lot of people in this city. Surely he’s got enemies…”

“I know you’re worried, but you’re jumping to some crazy conclusions,” Ambrose said with patience. “I hate to tell you, cousin, but there’s not much you can do right now aside from wait. If you were to call the police now, they’re not going to take the fact that a grown man left his apartment a few hours ago and hasn’t returned seriously.”

“But Ambrose…”

“He’s okay, Sabrina,” Ambrose assured her with such confidence she couldn’t help but believe him. “I know he’s had a hard time lately, but he’s not the kind of guy to get himself into a mess and not be able to get out of it. He’s certainly not the kind of guy who just walks out of his apartment one day and never shows up again, especially when he’s left the woman he loves more than his own life there.”

“So you’re saying I have to wait until morning to do anything further?”

“Unfortunately,” Ambrose agreed. “I suppose you can try calling any friends he may have in the area, but that’s about it.”

After she hung up, she sat on the couch, pondering what to do. She considered going out once again, looking for him, but it was eleven now, and she didn’t particularly want to be wandering New York City alone, late at night, in the cold. She fretted over calling a few of his friends, but she wasn’t sure where to begin, how to phrase her concerns. Ambrose didn’t seem worried and she supposed that should comfort her.

And so, she kept up routine of alternating between pacing and sitting to worry, debate, wonder. She rehearsed what she would say to him when he showed up, how she would put him in his place for worrying her, how she would hug him hard and not let him go.

It was nearing 1AM when the doorknob turned. She sat up from where she had been dejectedly slumped in a worn canvas armchair. The door swung open.

“Nick!”

Relief flooded through her. She rushed to her feet and to him. The smell of bourbon reached her before she reached him.

“Sa… Sab… Sabrina…”

He stumbled, both over his words and his feet. She caught him around the waist, had to work to stay on her feet as he used her for support. The unmistakable smell of fried food and cigarette smoke mingled with the bourbon.

He was drunk.

She had never seen him like this and it concerned her, given that he had turned to alcohol after Amalia’s death. There was no use in trying to talk to him now however. He needed to sleep off the bourbon

“Come on,” she sighed. “Let’s get you into bed.”

“Bed… No…” He tried to press a messy kiss to her hair. “Want you.”

“Not tonight,” Sabrina shook her head as she led him through the room. “You’re getting into bed and sleeping this off.”

“Nonna’s dead,” he said.

“She is,” Sabrina agreed. “I know that’s hard for you, and I’m so sorry. She lived a very long life, though, and she loved you so much...”

“Didn’t know me,” Nick mumbled, ignoring her. “Just - forgot.”

He continued to mumble incoherently as she got him to the bedroom. She gave up trying to talk to him and did what she could to make him comfortable, even as she smacked away his hands that wanted to explore and avoid his messy attempts at a kiss. She managed to get his jacket off of him and removed his boots. She couldn’t remember if he had on gloves or a scarf when he left, but he was devoid of them now, his exposed skin cold.

“Want to take those jeans off?” she asked. His mumbled something she couldn’t make out. “You’ll have to at least attempt to stand up.” He laid down. She sighed. “Fine. Sleep in your clothes.” She supposed she should just be grateful he was getting into bed so easily. “You worried me, Scratch.” She ran a hand through his hair, allowing herself to feel a moment of relief despite his condition. “You can’t do stuff like this to me.”

“Love… You….”

“I love you,” she replied. “I don’t like you very much right now, but I love you.”

She kissed his forehead, but crinkled her nose. He reeked, and she wished he was in a state to take a shower. He rolled over, effectively sprawling out in the middle of the bed. She shook her head in annoyance and picked up the throw draped over the end of the bed, tugging it to get it out from under his legs. She draped it over him, wondering at the fact that he was already asleep, and changed into pajamas. Recognizing that Nick was taking up the entire double bed, not to mention the fact that she didn’t particularly want to sleep next to him anyway, she laid down on the couch with another thin throw from who knew where. It smelled like mothballs.

Sighing heavily one more time, she closed her eyes and willed sleep to come.

* * *

He didn’t have to open his eyes to know he was hungover. His head hurt in a way it hadn’t in months, not since before he left New York. He vaguely recalled stepping into a bar on his way to the grocery store, overwhelmed by thoughts and emotions he couldn’t decipher, but he didn’t remember much else, just a foggy vision of Sabrina with worry in her eyes when he showed up at the apartment hours later.

It was her that had woken him up, he realized. She was getting dressed for the day, and making no effort to be quiet about it.

“Too loud,” he groaned. He tried to hide his head under the pillow, but it was pulled away and tossed aside moments later.

“It’s after nine o’clock,” Sabrina informed him. “If I’m up and functioning after next to no sleep last night, you surely are capable of getting out of bed. You’ve been dead to the world for hours.”

“My head hurts…”

“You’re hungover.” There was no sympathy in her tone. “I don’t feel bad for you. You made the choices you made last night. The consequences are yours to suffer.”

She stomped out of the room. His brain was foggy, but he had enough sense to know she wasn’t happy with him. Even though he wanted nothing more than to stay in bed until his head stopped pounding, he forced himself to stand and half walked half stumbled into the bathroom. It was only after he had emptied his bladder and splashed water on his face that he realized he was still in yesterday’s clothes.

There was a loud bang that sounded like a cabinet door slamming. He sighed. He was in for it, and he supposed he deserved it. He bought himself a few more minutes by brushing his teeth and changing his clothes, opting for a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. He was hesitant as he approached Sabrina in the kitchen.

“Hey,” he said tentatively. She glared at him from where she stood at the counter, transferring the contents of her big tote bag to a smaller one she carried often. “I’m sorry…”

“I don’t want to hear it,” she cut him off. “What happened last night, Nick? Where did you go?”

“A bar…”

“That’s not the same as a grocery store,” she pointed out, not letting him explain further. “Do you know how worried I was? I tried calling. I even went out looking for you, only to realize you left your phone here. Every worst case scenario I could think of occurred to me.”

“I didn’t mean to worry you…”

“I know you’re going through a lot,” she bulldozed on. “Hell, we’ve already been through a lot and maybe Nonna’s death is a catalyst for you dealing with everything else that’s happened. But your behavior last night was unacceptable.”

Nick tried to recall what exactly he had said and done when he got back to the apartment. It was hazy, at best. He wasn’t even entirely sure how he got home.

“Sabrina…”

“I don’t want to hear it,” she repeated, cutting him off again. “You’re hurting, Nick. I get that. I want to support you. But I will not put up with the kind of behavior you exhibited last night.”

“I’m sorry…”

“No,” she cut him off yet again. She had had all night to stew, to transition from worry to anger. She didn’t want to be around him right then, and for the sake of their relationship, she knew it was best if she put some space between them for a while. “I don’t want your apologies. You’ve been an absolute asshole lately. I’ve tried to support you, but I am so tired of being on the receiving end of your bad moods. Nothing I say or do is right. You won’t let me help you, won’t let me be there for you. I was trying to be patient with you, give you some time and space, but enough is enough. Taking off last night, leaving me all alone in a strange city, making me worry about you? I’ve had enough.”

She zipped her bag, slung it over her shoulder, and stomped out of the kitchen. Nick followed, trying to push past how the lights made his head hurt more, how desperately he wanted a glass of water right then. His concern was Sabrina.

“Sabrina, stop,” he tried. “Let me talk…”

“No!” She dropped her bag on the couch, but only to pull on a coat. “I don’t want to talk to you, Nick. I don’t even want to be around you right now. I need some space, or I will say or do something I will regret.”

She picked up her bag again. Nick caught her hand.

“I messed up,” he recognized. The hazy edges of panic set in around his chest. “Please… Talk to me…”

She jerked her hand away.

“I’m not talking to you right now,” she repeated. “I’m going out.”

“Where…”

“I don’t know!” She threw her hands up in frustration. “I just know that I don’t want to be in the same room as you right now. I’m leaving. Don’t call me. Don’t text me. I’ll be back later.”

She headed for the door. The panic in his chest rose like a wildfire.

“Sabrina, stop!” He caught her at the door. “Don’t walk out on me. Please.”

She heard the way his voice cracked on the ‘please,’ but didn’t allow herself to be swayed. If she stayed, they would end up far worse off.

“I need space,” she informed you. “I’ll be back later.”

She left then and Nick felt the world fall around him. Every cell of his body told him to follow her, stop her, but his instincts told him to let her go. She needed space and even if it went against everything he wanted, he had to let her have it.

Berating himself for his behavior, he turned away from the door, deciding the only thing he could address right now was his throbbing head. He intended to search the kitchen, or at least the tote Sabrina had left behind in hopes of finding Tylenol, but his attention was drawn to the neatly folded blanket and pillow stacked on top of it that perched at the end of the couch. She slept on the sofa last night, he realized, and that stung more than he thought it would. He hadn’t slept without her by his side since before Harvey was exposed.

It occurred to him that if he couldn’t talk to her, he could at least know where she was. It would give him peace of mind to at least know she was safe. It took him a few minutes to locate his phone, still plugged in where he had left it the day before, and quickly tapped through screens.

“Dammit, Sabrina!”

She had turned off location sharing.

He cursed again and tossed his phone aside. He fell back on the bed, upset with himself for letting things get to this point. He knew he had been less than ideal lately, that he had been pushing Sabrina away, snapping at her when she didn’t deserve it. He saw plainly her resolve to be there for him all the same, support him through this rough patch. It was in the way she still made him coffee every morning, even when she went to bed with hurt feelings. She dropped by the station, just to say hi, even if he had been short with her that morning. She asked about his day, even if he never asked about hers. Her love for him was steadfast and he had done nothing in recent weeks to deserve it. He had barely made love to her in the last month, and he usually couldn’t keep his hands off of her.

He realized then that he had done the one thing he had swore he would never do with her: taken her for granted. He grabbed for his phone, not caring that she told him not to call her.

The text messages on his screen momentarily distracted him. A few were from her, wondering where he was, if he was okay. They had stopped though, likely around the time she found his phone at the apartment. Ambrose, too, had texted.

_Sabrina called me last night, worried about you - you good?_

He sighed heavily. Of course she had called Ambrose. She had probably been considering calling the police, his New York friends, anyone she could think of. Ambrose had been the one she picked to advise her. He typed back a message.

_Define good._

Ambrose’s response was almost instant.

_Sabrina mad?_

_Furious._

He checked his voicemails. There were two. One was from Prudence, letting him know she’d put some files he needed to review on his desk for when he was back in the office. The other was from Sabrina. He heard how worried she was and his guilt grew. He tapped her number and wasn’t surprised that she let it go to voicemail.

“I know you said not to call, but I’m sorry, Sabrina. For this morning, last night, the way I’ve been lately…” He blew out a long breath. “I love you so much, and I’ve been terrible at showing it the last few weeks. Please, come back home, okay? It’s been hard… Talk to me, let me fix this.” He took a moment to swallow past the lump in his throat. “I can’t lose you, too. I love you. I’m sorry.”

He laid across the bed, waiting, expecting her to call back, to maybe even walk through the door. After a while, he realized it would do him no good for her to find him like this. He had to clean himself up, wash away the night before as best he could.

An hour later, freshly showered, his stubble shaved and his clothes clean, he picked up his phone again. He ignored his notifications - none of them were from Sabrina - and called her again.

No answer.

He typed out a text.

_Where are you? Just let me know you’re okay._

His breath hitched when the dots that indicated she was typing appeared.

_I’m fine._

No location.

_Tell me where you are. I’ll meet you for lunch. We can talk._

_Already ate._

He sighed again and called her.

Voicemail.

“Really, Sabrina? You have your phone in your hand…”

He hung up and instantly regretted leaving the voicemail, but the damage was done. He sent another text.

_You’re still not speaking to me._

_I told you, I don’t want to talk to you right now._

_When are you coming back?_

_Later._

He dropped his phone on the couch next to him in defeat. She was still mad. He wasn’t exactly hungry, but it was lunchtime and he supposed eating was something he could do to distract himself. He went to the kitchen to look through the few groceries he and Sabrina had picked up when they arrived two days earlier.

It occurred to him that she had likely never eaten dinner last night. He certainly hadn’t, having chosen to drink his calories, not even tempted by the bar food being served up around him. Judging from the looks of things, she hadn’t had breakfast either.

His non-existent appetite was truly gone. He left the kitchen, ambled through the apartment, trying and failing to find things to keep him distracted. He tried Sabrina a few more times, sent her a few texts she didn’t respond to. His heart sunk further into his stomach with each hour that passed without Sabrina.

He tried her phone again.

Voicemail.

“If I seem desperate at this point, it’s because I am,” he said into the phone. “Please come home, Sabrina. It’s cold out and it will be dark soon. You’ve turned off location sharing, so I don’t know where you are… Even if you’re still mad at me, just come home. I’m worried about you.”

He supposed this was how she felt the night before. Except at least she had told him she was leaving and not to call her. He had just - left.

He had resumed his position on the couch of elbows on his knees, head in his hands, when the door opened. He stood quickly, but his feet remained rooted to the spot as she walked in, a few shopping bags in hand. She said nothing, but put her bags down and busied herself with taking off her layers.

His feet finally started to work when she hung her coat on the rack near the door.

“Sabrina.”

He reached for her, because it was the only thing that made sense. Relief washed over him when she let him pull her to him.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, holding her tight. “I messed up last night, I’ve been messing up for weeks…”

“I don’t know how to help you,” Sabrina said into his chest. “And you won’t let me try.”

“I don’t have anyone left.” The words he had been holding onto tumbled out of him. Saying them out loud made them real, and they hurt. He hadn’t even found the courage to tell his therapist, even if she picked at his psyche because she already knew what he felt. His embrace tightened, ensuring she couldn’t leave him, too. “Nonna was all the family I had left. She’s gone, and I’m alone.”

“Oh, Nick.”

In that moment, any residual anger she still held onto left. She had taken the day away from him to calm down, gain some clarity, and had returned with the intentions of talking through things like the adults they were supposed to be. Now, she just wanted to hold him.

“I have those two aunts, but I don’t know them. They aren’t family, not really. There are no more Scratches. I’m it. I’m alone.”

“You are absolutely not alone,” Sabrina reminded him. “You have me, Nick. I’m your family. Like it or not, you have all of the Spellmans, too. Please, don’t think you’re alone.”

“The way I’ve been acting lately, I wouldn’t blame you if you dumped me.”

“Maybe things haven’t been great lately,” Sabrina recognized. “But you lost your grandmother, Nick. You get to be sad. You get to hurt.”

“But I don’t get to take it out on you,” he countered. “You’ve been there, loving me in spite of my behavior, and I’ve just kept down the path of being an ass.”

“I love you,” Sabrina said simply. “Even when you’re a jerk, I love you.”

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry, Sabrina. I was in my head and when I walked past the bar on the way to the grocery store I just - went in. I shouldn’t have. I should have done what I said I was going to do and came home. I’m sorry. Please, forgive me.”

He was nearly begging, Sabrina realized. She placed a gentle hand on his cheek.

“Nick, I’m not going anywhere.” He swallowed hard, but didn’t speak, his worried eyes on hers. Her thumb brushed back and forth over his cheek. “I left earlier because if I stayed, we would have ended up in a bigger fight. I wasn’t in a place to talk and you were pretty hungover. It wouldn’t have gone well.”

“I’ve been a nervous wreck all day,” he admitted. “I realize it’s hypocritical. You were here, worried about me last night, and I at least knew you left with intention, but I hated it.”

“I want you to talk to me, Nick. We have been through hell and back these last several months and if you start pushing me away…”

Nick still had her in his arms, but he pulled her closer.

“I took you for granted,” he recognized. “I swore I wouldn’t do that with you, yet I did. I’m sorry for that, too. I just got so overwhelmed… It’s hard, being around her things, not knowing what to do with all of it, being reminded of so much…”

“I know it’s hard.” She ran her fingers through his hair. He leaned into her touch. “I’m here, though, Nick. You are not alone. You and I? We’re forever, remember? We’re our own family.”

He could only hug her to him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again. “I’m so sorry.”

“Come on.” She gently pulled away and took his hand. She led him to the couch. He sat close, as though afraid she might leave again if he couldn’t touch her. “Talk to me, Nick,” she encouraged. “Tell me what’s going on. How can I help you?”

He took a moment to compose his thoughts. Sabrina waited patiently, still holding his hand.

“I feel guilty,” he admitted. “I wasn’t there when she died. I wasn’t there, and she didn’t remember me. I don’t know what hurts more.”

“One doesn’t have to hurt more than the other,” she told him. “You’re allowed to hurt, Nick. You’re allowed to be sad. Your nonna loved you. You know that. I know you do.”

Nick nodded.

“I know she did,” he agreed. “She lived a really long, mostly happy life. Even though she lost her husband, her daughter, even though she had to raise a grandson when she was already older, she lived a happy life. She was a really good grandmother.”

“She did an incredible job with you,” Sabrina pointed out. “I’m glad I got to meet her, tell her that.”

Nick smiled a bit.

“She really did love you,” he said. “I know you only met her once, and that she didn’t remember you when we’d talk, even when she was lucid, but I know she did.” He squeezed her hand. “It’s impossible not to love you.”

Sabrina hugged him again. Already, she felt the tension he had been carrying for weeks lessening in his shoulders. She thought, maybe, this was a turning point. She let him hold her, both of them needing the comfort of the other. He needed to reassure himself that she was there, back in his arms, where she belonged.

“Are we okay?” he asked after a while. His tone was soft, weary.

“We are,” Sabrina confirmed. “But you can’t do that again, Nick. You can get upset. You can even go to a bar and have a drink to cool off or unwind. But you can’t disappear. You can’t come home that drunk again.”

“I won’t,” he swore. “It won’t happen again.” He brought her closer. “I’m sorry, Sabrina. I really am.”

“We’re okay, Nick,” Sabrina was gentle, sensing he needed the affirmation. “I’m here. You’re here. We talked through things.”

“I’m not going to push you away anymore,” he said, still rambling. “I won’t take you for granted…”

“Nick, stop.” Sabrina pulled away, but only so she could turn to him and place her hands on his cheeks. “You have been through so much. Not just with your grandmother’s passing, but getting shot, the investigation, Amalia’s death… You have had an awful year. I know you worry about losing me, about messing up and falling back into old habits. But you’re still standing after everything you’ve been through and I’m still right here beside you. I’m not going anywhere.”

She kissed him sweetly. Her lips on his seemed to calm his nerves.

“I love you,” she said when she pulled away.

“I love you,” he replied. He found her hand and squeezed it three times for good measure. Her smile was real and genuine. “Can we stay right here?” he asked. “I’ll order us food and we can just - stay right here. That’s all I want tonight - to sit on this couch with you. Nothing more.”

“That sounds like heaven,” she nodded. “But can we order food sooner rather than later? I’m starving…”

“I haven’t had a mouthful today,” Nick admitted, his appetite returning now that Sabrina was back where she belonged and he had acknowledged the idea of food. “I was too worried.” He looked at her. “I imagine you were in a similar state last night.”

“I was,” Sabrina confirmed. “I had a bit of lunch, but I didn’t eat it all.”

“What do you want?” Nick asked, reaching for his phone from where it sat on the coffee table. “Name it, I’ll order it.”

“Pizza?”

“I know a place,” Nick nodded. “It’s not as good as my pizza…”

“None is,” Sabrina chirped, stroking his ego because she could - and he needed it in the moment.

“But it’s still decent. What do you want?”

She listened as he called in their order, whispered for him to add breadsticks. When he was done, he pulled her back to him.

“Get comfortable, Spellman,” he said. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“You are though,” Sabrina quipped. Nick raised his eyebrows. “Someone has to answer the door when the pizza comes.”

Nick laughed, a real genuine laugh.

“I think I’ve earned the responsibility of greeting and paying the pizza guy,” he agreed. He kissed Sabrina’s temple and without another word, turned on the television. He passed her the remote, fully aware she would put on something cheesy and predictable.

His nonna was gone.

But he had Sabrina.

The Spellmans.

He wasn’t alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a rough patch there, but they made it through! Keep those prompts coming - I've got some great ones from y'all so far!


	3. Happy Birthday, Nick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We know Sabrina's birthday is a big deal, but what about Nick's?

Nick surveyed the pile of wood and plastic in front of him with apprehension. He looked to Ambrose who stood next to him in a similar state of contemplation.

“You realize its my birthday, right?” he asked.

“You agreed to help,” Ambrose countered. “You could have said no.”

“I should have said no.”

“Think of how happy you’ll make the twins,” Ambrose said. “They’ll walk into this backyard, see their swingset, and live their best lives.”

“They’re not even one yet, let alone walking,” Nick replied.

“This is Prudence’s idea,” Ambrose shrugged. “I’m merely the pawn.”

“What does that make me?”

“The idiot who agreed to help me on his birthday.”

Nick snorted.

“Fair enough.” He nudged a nearby beam with the toe of his boot. “We’re not going to get anything done just standing here. Sabrina gave specific instructions that I’m not to stay and help you past nightfall. Apparently my birthday is meant to be celebrated.”

“Is it your birthday?” Ambrose asked innocently. “You haven’t mentioned it.”

Nick rolled his eyes.

“Sabrina made a big deal out of it this morning,” he admitted. “She woke me up with breakfast in bed and…”

“Stop,” Ambrose interrupted. “I don’t need to know anything else about what you and my cousin did to welcome another year around the sun.”

“I was going to say ‘and candles in my pancakes,’ but,” he raised his eyebrows pointedly. “It is my birthday.”

“Pick up a tool,” Ambrose ordered. “Let’s get you busy so I don’t have to hear anymore about your birthday morning.”

Nick laughed and went in search of the instructions to the intricate backyard playset Prudence had purchased for the twins’ upcoming first birthday. He didn’t much care that it was his birthday, hence the reason he had agreed to help Ambrose without much protest. But Sabrina liked to celebrate things big and grand and he hadn’t been entirely surprised when he woke up to her singing “Happy Birthday” with a tray laden with pancakes, bacon, and coffee. He had opened his gift from her - a perfectly chosen leather wallet with his initials monogrammed in gold threads to replace the falling apart vinyl one he had used for years - and then he got what he referred to his real gift in the form of her naked underneath him.

It was easily his best birthday in a very long time.

He fully expected a cake of some sort when he made it home, but he was mostly looking forward to spending the evening on the couch with her. He wouldn’t hate it if the day ended the way it started.

“Okay. This says you have to connect the ‘A’ beam to the ‘B’ beam,” Nick read.

“Where’s the ‘A’ beam?” Ambrose wondered. They surveyed the pile of material. Nick shook his head.

“I have no idea.”

“I don’t like Prudence very much right now,” Ambrose grumbled. Nick laughed and started searching for the right pieces. Ambrose joined him.

He didn’t like Sabrina very much either. It was her who told him to keep Nick busy today while she prepared for Nick’s surprise party that night. When he questioned how he was supposed to keep Nick occupied for an entire Saturday that happened to be his birthday without raising suspicion, Prudence had casually suggested the playset project, Sabrina had jumped on it, and he had never stood a chance. He missed the days when the two were enemies just for the sake of being enemies. Now, when they combined their powers, anyone in their way was screwed.

Once Nick got over the surprise factor, Ambrose hoped he realized Sabrina had been responsible for his day of manual labor.

“How mad to you think Prudence would be if we ditched this and went day drinking instead?” Ambrose wondered, helping Nick move a beam from the pile.

“I wouldn’t want to find out,” Nick said. “But if we finish this up at a decent hour…”

“I like the way you think,” Ambrose nodded.

There wasn’t a chance in hell they would finish the project before it was time to go back to Nick and Sabrina’s.

But he would play along anyway.

If anyone deserved a good birthday, it was definitely Nicholas Scratch.

* * *

“Make sure you put a bit of sauce in the bottom of the pan first. It will keep the noodles from sticking.”

“I know, Hilda.” Sabrina reached for a ladle. She hadn’t actually known that, but she already regretted asking Hilda to come over and help her with Nick’s birthday dinner.

“You did use a one-to-one ratio on the pork and beef, didn’t you?”

“You watched me do it,” Sabrina reminded her. She had at least known to do that. “I have Nick’s nonna’s recipe. I’m following it to the letter.”

It was a happy coincidence that Nonna’s recipes were one of the things Nick had brought home with him, along with photos and a few other personal effects that were sentimental. She hoped he wouldn’t mind that she had dug into the recipes to find the ones for the dishes he had mentioned she used to make for him on his birthday.

“Nick’s grandmother was Italian,” Hilda reminded her. “I’m sure she had a special touch we don’t have for this dish. I just want to make sure…”

“I’m well aware that Nick’s grandmother was Italian,” Sabrina said with more patience than she felt as she took cheeses out of the fridge. “I’m also well aware that I’m not the cook she was or that you are.”

“Oh, you’re doing just fine, dear.” Hilda tapped her fingers on the small kitchen island where she was perched on a stool. It was everything she could do not to jump in and help Sabrina. She wasn’t used to being sidelined in the kitchen. “That’s whole milk ricotta and mozzarella, yes?”

“And fresh, too,” Sabrina retorted. “I’m not using ricotta though. I’m using parmesan.”

“But…”

“But Nonna’s recipe says parmesan and doesn’t mention ricotta, so I’m not using it,” Sabrina stated.

“And bechamel, too?” Hilda shook her head. “I’ve never…”

“Nonna’s recipe,” Sabrina said again. “Nick loves it. He wouldn’t have mentioned it if he didn’t. I’m making the lasagna exactly as she did.”

“Fine, fine,” Hilda held up her hands. “You have a proper lasagna pan, at least.”

“Nick brought it back from Nonna’s,” Sabrina shared. She was handling the glass pan with the care of a newborn baby. This and a pizza stone had made their way back to Greendale, and Sabrina was not about to be the one to break either of them. She sensed what they meant to Nick.

“He’s doing better, it seems,” Hilda commented. “He was in a right state there for a while.”

“Things are a lot better,” Sabrina confirmed. She went to work laying lasagna noodles along the bottom of the pan. “The last trip we took to New York helped him.”

After their fight in New York and Nick’s subsequent confession that he felt alone, things had turned around. They spent their last three days in the city finishing up going through Nonna’s things, donating most of it, save for what Nick wanted to keep. He had been more himself, more able to let her in, let her help. He caught himself when he went on edge and started to push her away again and on the night of their argument, he had held her on the couch the entire night like his life depended on it, and later, when they went to bed, he had clung to her as though afraid she would leave or disappear if he didn’t. He didn’t know she heard him whisper ‘I’m sorry’ one last time when he thought she was asleep, felt him pull her in a little closer.

“What’s he going to do with his Nonna’s apartment?” Hilda wondered. Her critical eye watched Sabrina. “Make sure you get the meat and cheese in the corners, love, so you’ll have nice, even slices.”

Sabrina cut her eye at Hilda, but didn’t comment on her latest critique.

“He’s renting it out,” she answered. “He has a contractor making a few updates before he puts it on the market.” He had considered selling, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Sabrina understood that.

“How is living with him?” Hilda continued her questioning. “You’ve been here what, four months now?”

“Officially for less than two,” Sabrina said. “It’s good. Really good, actually. We have our disagreements - he’s messy and refuses to eat anything healthy most of the time - but overall, things are good. I think Salem is the one having the greatest struggle.”

Dublin raised her head from where she was resting on a throw rug - Sabrina’s touch - at the mention of Salem. She didn’t chase the cat, thanks to her training, but all she had to do was walk into a room for Salem to race out of it.

“Do you think Nick will propose soon?”

“Hilda!” Sabrina exclaimed.

“What?” Hilda asked innocently. “He loves you, you love him, the pair of you have certainly been through more than your fair share of trying times in the half year or so you’ve been together and are stronger for it. You’re already living with him…”

“There’s no need to rush anything.” Sabrina berated herself for not anticipating this conversation sooner. “Nick and I are in a good place, and we know where our relationship is going.”

“Marriage?”

Sabrina rolled her eyes, but she knew she wasn’t getting out of this conversation.

“Odds are favorable that Nick and I will get married,” she said diplomatically. “Why all the questioning? Do you do this to Ambrose? He’s been with Prudence forever. Don’t you think it’s time he puts a ring on it? Maybe even moves out of the mortuary?”

“Don’t worry about Ambrose. I’m working on that, too.” Hilda sat up taller. “Your aunt and I would like to throw a wedding, is all.”

“So glad that’s your motivation for me marrying Nick - a party.”

“Well of course I want the pair of you to have a happy marriage,” Hilda waved a hand. “But a party would be lovely. It’s been so long since we had a marriage to celebrate…”

Sabrina rolled her eyes again and picked up the dish to put in the oven.

“Wait!”

Sabrina startled and tightened her grip on the pan.

“What on earth, Hilda?” she asked, turning to face her aunt. “You nearly made me dump this everywhere!”

“You have to cover it with aluminum foil before you put it in the oven.”

Sabrina frowned.

“Nonna’s recipe doesn’t say…”

“Because it’s common sense,” Hilda said. “Any cook or baker knows you cover the lasagna, then you’ll uncover it and bake it for another fifteen minutes or so to golden the top.”

Sabrina considered her. She thought back to the times she had witnessed Hilda pulling covered dishes, lasagna included, out of the oven. They were generally covered in foil.

“Fine,” she relented. “I’ll cover the pan.”

“Excellent!” Hilda clapped her hands. “The cakes should be cooled by now. We’ll get to work on that ganache while the lasagna bakes. Should give us enough time to get the garlic bread in the oven and the salad chopped before Nick and Ambrose get back.”

Sabrina gave her aunt a tight smile as she turned to find the aluminum foil. This was for Nick, she reminded herself. He deserved this.

* * *

“You’re coming in?” Nick asked when Ambrose turned off his Camaro and opened the door.

“I’d like to taunt my cousin for a few minutes,” he said nonchalantly. “Don’t worry, Scratch. I won’t stay long. It’s your birthday, after all.”

Nick snorted back a laugh and led the way to the house. Dublin met him at the door.

“Hey, girl,” he greeted, noting how Ambrose hung back. He smirked just a bit. Dublin had never so much as looked at Ambrose wrong, but the police captain still kept his distance from the big dog that would only attack someone if he - or Sabrina - ordered it, or Dublin thought one of them was in danger. “Where’s Sabrina?”

The dog turned and trotted away. Nick noted the place smelled like garlic. He dared to wonder what Sabrina had cooked. She was a better cook than he was, at any rate, but he had eaten his fair share of barely tolerable meals at her hand as she tried to put what Hilda taught her into practice.

“Sabrina?” he called out.

“Kitchen!” she replied.

Nick walked into the kitchen. He only had a moment to realize Sabrina wasn’t alone before a shout of ‘Surprise!’ went up from the group gathered.

“What…?” he stumbled backwards a couple of steps, bumping into Ambrose who chuckled. Ambrose said something, but Nick didn’t hear it. He only had eyes for Sabrina who was walking towards him with a brilliant smile.

“Happy birthday, Nick.”

She slipped her arms around his neck as his went around her waist.

“What…” he muttered, his senses still trying to catch up to what was happening. He held Sabrina to him, took in the fact that Hilda, Zelda, Cee, Prudence, the twins, Theo, and Roz, as well as a few of his friends from the police department were gathered in their kitchen.

“I wanted you to have a good birthday,” Sabrina said just loud enough for him to hear. “You deserve it, Nick.”

He looked at her, his eyes soft and full of love. In the moment, they were the only two in the room and everyone around them knew it.

“Today has already been perfect,” he assured her. He kissed her softly, then pulled away, but kept his arm around her as he turned to face their guests. “Wow…”

“Happy birthday, Nicholas,” Zelda said with a small smile that, for her, was practically beaming. “Sabrina has been rather busy today.”

“So have I,” Nick quipped. “Prudence, there’s a mostly built playset in your backyard.”

“You’re too kind,” Prudence replied with a smirk as Ambrose slid an arm around her in greeting. “It was Sabrina’s idea that you help Ambrose.”

“We owe Sabrina for our day of manual labor,” Ambrose informed Nick. “I’m not sure I’ll forgive her for it.”

“You were the one struggling to find a way to keep Nick busy today,” Sabrina shot back. “And Prudence suggested the playset….”

“I didn’t have time to come up with something before you were volunteering our services,” Ambrose protested.

“I was happy to help,” Nick interjected with a smile. He was more than used to Sabrina and Ambrose’s constant bickering by now. “Although I’d like to change my shirt before I socialize after all that aforementioned manual labor.”

He didn’t wait for an answer, but turned and pulled Sabrina along with him. He did want to change his shirt, but he also wanted her alone.

“Is everything okay?” she asked once they were out of earshot of their family and friends in the kitchen. “If you’d rather me send them home…”

Nick said nothing. He pulled her into their bedroom, shut the door, and pushed her up against it. His lips were on hers before she could ask any further questions.

“You’re amazing, Sabrina Spellman,” he breathed when he pulled away. “God, I love you.” His lips were back on hers. She was all too happy to kiss him back with as much vigor. “If our kitchen wasn’t full of people right now…”

“Later,” she sighed against his lips. She loved how his hard body pressed into hers, how she knew he wanted her. “Birthday sex. Later.”

“I don’t promise not to hurry them out of here.” He kissed her one more time, then pulled away and released her. “The image of you naked between our sheets clouds my judgment.”

“Play nice,” Sabrina reminded him, openly watching as he took his shirt off to reveal his chiseled abs. The usual pang she felt whenever she spotted the scars from the surgery that had saved his life and repaired his shoulder made itself known. She sent up a quiet ‘thank you’ that he was standing before her, healthy and whole. She didn’t think that pang or prayer of gratitude would ever go away. “I’m going back out there. They probably think we’re back here doing unspeakable things.”

“The only reason we’re not is because they’re out there,” Nick quipped. “I’ll be right there.”

Sabrina left him to change his clothes and was thankful when no one remarked on their brief disappearance. When Nick emerged, he was clean and smiling. He greeted each guest, took time to play with the twins. Sabrina couldn’t deny the way her stomach flipped in the best way as she watched Nick with the little ones.

“Shall we eat?” Sabrina asked, having timed the meal perfectly, begrudgingly with Hilda’s help.

“I’m starving,” Nick said, coming to her. “What’s for dinner?”

A sudden nervousness fell over Sabrina. She wanted Nick to like it, hoped she hadn’t overstepped in some way, that it tasted as good as it smelled.

“Lasagna,” she said softly. “Your grandmother’s recipe. You said she used to make it for you on your birthday…”

A storm of emotions crossed Nick’s features. He didn’t remember telling Sabrina about his grandmother’s birthday tradition, but he clearly had and she had, of course, remembered. It was one of those moments where her love for him - and his love for her - knocked him over. He pulled her into his side and pressed a kiss to her hair that told her everything he wanted her to know.

“It’s perfect,” he said in the same soft voice. “Thank you, Sabrina.”

“I hope you like it,” she said. “Hilda oversaw the process and argued with me about the parmesan instead of the ricotta, but I did all the work.”

“You absolutely use parmesan over ricotta,” Nick said. “Bechamel, too. It’ll be the best lasagna she’s ever had.”

“I don’t know about that…”

Nick smiled at her.

“I do.”

The next two hours passed with food, cake, and a lot of laughter. Zelda, Hilda, and Roz did the dishes, and Nick was all too happy to see them out, not because he didn’t appreciate them, but because he was desperate to be alone with Sabrina.

“Coffee?”

Sabrina appeared in the living room where he had just sat down, holding a mug of coffee in one hand, tea in the other.”

“You know me well, Spellman.”

He accepted the cup from her and she curled up on the couch next to him. Dublin was already camped out in a chair, Salem nowhere to be found.

“Did you have a good day?” she asked.

“The best day,” he assured her. His hand rested on her thigh. “It’s been a really long time since I celebrated my birthday. You could have not mentioned it again today after the way this morning started and I would have still sworn it was the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

“I wanted you to have a good birthday.” She moved a curl off his forehead. “You’ve been through so much these last few months, and you’re always trying to take care of me, of everyone. I wanted to do something nice for you.”

Nick smiled in disbelief.

“Spellman, you literally only do nice things for me,” he said. “Coffee every morning, rubbing my shoulder when it hurts, just curling up in my arms to watch TV with me…”

“It’s your birthday,” she said again. “You should know by now, Scratch - I celebrate everything.”

“When did I tell you about the lasagna and cake?” Nick wondered. “I don’t remember that.”

“A few days after my birthday. We were having breakfast at the bakery and someone wished me a happy belated birthday. I asked when your birthday was and you said you didn’t make a big deal out of it, but that Nonna used to make you lasagna and a chocolate ganache cake every year.”

“You really do remember everything.” He kissed her hair for what he was certain was at least the twelfth time that day. “Nonna hadn’t made my birthday meal in several years,” he shared. “Her health started to decline and she just couldn’t do it. It was something I didn’t think I would ever have again.”

“I wondered how long it had been,” Sabrina admitted. “I was worried it was going to be awful or that you were going to be upset with me for stepping on a tradition between you and Nonna.”

“Never,” Nick shook his head. “Thank you for today, Sabrina. It was perfect.”

“You deserved it.” She kissed him sweetly. “Was the lasagna okay? I know it wasn’t as good as Nonna’s, but I tried…”

“It was the best lasagna I’ve ever had,” Nick assured her. Sabrina gave him a pointed look.

“It was,” he insisted. “I’ll admit that it may have lacked my Nonna’s - touch.” Sabrina snorted. “But,” Nick squeezed her knee, “you made it, Sabrina. You remembered such a small detail, went out of your way to make it happen, to gather the people I care about the most. That was easily the best lasagna and cake I have ever had.”

He kissed her this time and she recognized what he wanted - her.

“Want the last part of your birthday present?” she asked.

“Only if that part is you, naked.”

“It might just be…” She stood, their usual evening tea and coffee long forgotten, and pulled Nick to his feet. He pulled her into him and kissed her again.

“Come on, beautiful.”

He led her to the bedroom. Salem leapt from their bed when they arrived, never able to find peace longer than a few minutes in the small house. Nick sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her to stand between his legs. He looped his arms around her waist and looked up at her.

“I’ve said it before, but I want to make sure I say it again. I’m going to marry you, Sabrina Spellman.”

Sabrina beamed, her own arms sliding around his neck.

“I sure hope so, Scratch,” she said. “Even though I’m rather enjoying living in sin with you.”

Nick used his position to bring her to him, and then laid her down on the bed.

“In that case…” He lowered his body over hers, “I intend to spend the rest of the night doing sinful things to you.” He kissed her. “And with you.”

His mouth started to descend down her body while his hand pushed her shirt up. She was already slipping away, overwhelmed by sensation.

“Don’t stop,” she breathed. “Ever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decent birthday for our guy? I think so... Let me know what you thought!


	4. I'll Move To New York

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had three one-shots started for this collection. I thought it was high time I finished one out. :)

Sabrina’s ears perked up at the sound of Nick’s keys in the lock. Dublin stood from where she had curled at Sabrina’s feet and trotted out of the living room. Sabrina smiled and closed her laptop as she listened to Nick greet Dublin. A few moments later, he appeared in the living room. 

“Hey,” he greeted as he fell onto the couch next to her. 

“Hi,” she replied, working hard not to grin at his tired features. “Busy day?” 

He eyed her, not fooled by her poor attempt to cover her smirk. 

“You’ve talked to Zelda.”

“She called,” Sabrina nodded, still fighting her smirk. “It seems you have tumbled a number of places on her list of favorite Greendale citizens. Although it does seem she still likes you more than Ambrose. Barely, but you are ahead of him.” 

“I warned her,” Nick stated. “Three times. That’s two more than I would have warned pretty much anyone else in this town. The fire lane outside of Dr. Cerebus is not for her parking pleasure or convenience.” 

“I really wish I would have been around to watch you write her a parking ticket,” Sabrina mused. 

Nick shook his head. 

“You don’t. She yelled. A Lot.” 

“Trust me, I do,” Sabrina practically glowed from amusement. “Don’t worry, she’ll get over it. It might take a few days, but she’ll pay her ticket and move on.” Nick scoffed. 

“I assure you, Zelda Spellman will be in court to fight her well-deserved parking ticket. I will stand my ground and let the judge decide whether she has to pay it. She cannot keep parking in the fire lane, just because she’s the mayor.” 

“She already tried to get Ambrose to void the ticket,” Sabrina shared. 

“Trust me, I know. He came into my office doubled over with laughter, took five minutes to compose himself, started laughing again the moment he tried to speak, then finally sat down and managed to tell me good job on giving his aunt a ticket before he lost it again. It took him forever to explain she had called and demanded he make it go away.” 

Sabrina beamed. 

“He did the same thing on the phone with her - laugh hysterically. That’s why she’s so mad at him - that, and the fact that he sided with you.” 

“Like I said, I warned her. Three times.” 

Sabrina reached out and ruffled his curls. They were already messy, a sign that he had been running his hand through them a lot that day, a habit he turned to when he was stressed.

“You certainly made Ambrose and I’s day,” she shared. “Probaby Hilda’s, too. No one ever tells Zelda no.” 

“Glad I could help,” Nick said wryly. 

“I’m rather looking forward to seeing her name in the crime log in the paper,” Sabrina admitted. “I’m saving it.” 

Nick quirked a bit of a grin. 

“Ambrose said he’s going to frame it and hang it in the station’s waiting area.” 

“She’ll kill him for sure,” Sabrina said with confidence. She leaned over and kissed Nick. “Welcome home, by the way.” 

Nick groaned as she pulled away from the short kiss. 

“You can do better than that, Spellman. I haven’t seen you since I left this morning.” 

“I suppose you did have a hard day, writing the mayor a ticket and all.” Nick nodded seriously, giving her his best puppy dog eyes. She grinned a bit, shook her head, and kissed him soundly. He hummed in satisfaction when they parted several moments later. “That’s more like it.” 

“There’s a roast, carrots, and potatoes in the Crock-Pot,” she told him. “It should be done by now if you’re hungry.” 

“You’re getting good at this whole cooking thing,” Nick said appreciatively. 

“Someone has to be.” She gave him a look. He grinned sheepishly. He could make the best pizza in the world, but just the night before she had gotten out of the shower to find the kitchen full of smoke as he tried and failed to cook salmon on the stovetop. 

“But I’m so good at the dishes,” he teased. “If I were a better cook, you’d have to do them more often. One cooks, one does the dishes, that’s the deal, remember?” 

Sabrina rolled her eyes and made to stand. 

“Let’s go eat. I’m starving.” 

“Before we do that…” 

Nick put a hand on her elbow to stop her. Sabrina sat back and looked at Nick. She recognized his tone. There was something he needed to talk to her about. 

“What’s going on?” she asked with a hint of hesitation. “Is it the trial?” 

Harvey’s trial loomed ever nearer. It was still a couple of months away, but it was a date on the calendar she couldn’t quite ignore. Prudence assured her it would be a quick trial, that between the evidence Nick and Ambrose had and the confession from Harvey she had recorded there would be no doubt as to Harvey’s fate. Still, she would hold her breath until Harvey was sentenced. 

“No,” Nick assured her. “Everything is moving along with the trial. I actually got a phone call today that I want to talk to you about.” Sabrina raised an eyebrow to show she was listening. “My former superior at the NYPD called earlier this afternoon.” His hand moved to rest on her knee. “He asked me to come back to the force.” 

“Oh.” 

Sabrina sat back against the cushions in surprise. Nick squeezed her knee. 

“I told him no.” 

Sabrina studied him. He waited to let her formulate her thoughts. 

“Is that what you want?” she asked carefully. “Or is it what you think I want?” 

“It’s what I want,” Nick assured her. He found her hand. “My life is here, Sabrina. In Greendale, with you.” 

“Nick, you say that now…” 

“I mean it,” he interjected. 

Sabrina shook her head. She had been thinking about this in quiet moments. 

“You love being a detective, Nick. I saw it in the middle of Harvey’s crimes. You were in your element, using your brain, putting together the pieces. Today, you gave my aunt Zelda a parking ticket. A few days ago, you did Career Day at the middle school because you lost a bet to Ambrose. This can’t be enough for you.” 

Nick laced his fingers through hers. 

“That’s what my former superior said.” Sabrina nodded solemnly. “He told me to take a couple of days to think about it, then give him my final answer.”

“I think that’s smarter than saying no on the spot,” Sabrina told him. “What do you want to do, Nick? Take me out of it for a minute. What do you want to do?”

“I want to stay here, in Greendale.” 

There wasn’t a shred of doubt in his tone. Sabrina still wasn’t quite ready to drop it. 

“Nick, if you want to take the job, please, take it. We’ll figure it out. I’ll - move to New York.”

He lifted one side of his mouth into a half smile. 

“You hesitated.” 

“No…” 

“Sabrina,” he said gently, “you did. You don’t want to live in New York any more than I want to take the job and move back.” 

“I want you to be happy…” 

Nick pulled her into his lap so she was straddling him. She looped her arms around his neck as his went around her waist. 

“I am happy,” he assured her, eyes on hers. “I’m happier with you than I have been in years, Sabrina. This is what I want - you, Greendale, a life together. Taking that job, moving back to New York? I would be sacrificing my time. I worked constantly there and while the salary is more, it’s the same job I left. Not only would I be asking you to move to New York - which you don’t want to do, despite what you’re trying to convince me of - I’d be giving up my time with you. And Sabrina? I rather like coming home to you, having dinner with you.” He leaned up and kissed her sweetly. “Sleeping next to you.” He smirked. “With you.” 

“You were doing so well,” Sabrina pretended to groan, making Nick chuckle. 

“I don’t want to give that up,” he said, growing serious once more. “I plan to marry you and when we have kids, I plan to be present for them. I want to coach baseball teams and sit through dance classes. I can’t do that if I’m a homicide detective for the NYPD.” 

Sabrina could only swoon. 

“Damn you, Scratch,” she grumbled. “You always know exactly what to say, don’t you?” 

Nick chuckled. 

“I love you, Spellman.” 

“I love you, Scratch.” 

It took mere moments for their kiss to turn into something more. Nick’s hands slid upward and Sabrina’s shift fell away. He moved from her lips to along her neck, groaned as she grinded her hips against his. She waited until his lips were on her chest and she could feel him through both his jeans and hers before she pulled away. 

“I’m going to go turn that roast off,” she said as she stood from his lap. Nick looked at her through lust-filled eyes. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” He reached for her. She dodged him, her smile wicked. She adjusted the strap on her bra that he had been in the middle of sliding off her shoulder. 

“I don’t want that roast to burn.” 

She took a few steps backwards, eyes still on him. He lunged after her. She took off for the kitchen, laughing as she heard him curse. She had just turned the dial to ‘off’ on the crock-pot when he caught up with her. 

“You’ll pay for that,” he said, pinning her between him and the counter. She turned in his arms so she could see him. 

“Promise?” she teased. 

Nick’s response was to take his shirt off and toss it aside, not caring that they were in the middle of the kitchen. 

“I’ve had a tough day,” he told her as he pressed his hips into her. “Your aunt gave me hell, now my girlfriend is being a tease.” 

Sabrina trailed her fingertips down his chest. They didn’t stop until they reached his waistband. She popped the button on his jeans. 

“Do your worst, Scratch.” 

He wasted no time. He undressed her with eager hands and she helped him out of his jeans. 

He took her right there in the kitchen, Sabrina perched on the counter, her legs wrapped around him as she coaxed him on. He wasn’t especially gentle, knew he didn’t have to be with Sabrina. He made love to her often, but she wasn’t fragile and had outright told him he didn’t always have to be so sweet. It was just one more thing he loved about her. 

When they came down from their high, they were both sweaty and sated. 

“God, I love you,” Nick groaned, his forehead resting on her shoulder as her fingers rubbed circled on his back. 

“Even if Zelda Spellman is my aunt?” she asked. 

“Have Hilda make me an apple pound cake and I’ll overlook it.” 

Sabrina laughed and pressed a kiss to his hair. 

“If only Zelda knew all it would take to get her out of trouble is a pound cake.”

“No, that’s all it takes to get _you_ out of trouble,” Nick corrected. He smirked again. “Well, that and what we just did. Which I was planning to do tonight anyway, so I suppose now that I’m ahead of schedule, we might get a second round in.” 

Sabrina rolled her eyes and wiggled off the counter. Nick kissed her one more time before he let her go. She plucked his shirt up from the floor and pulled it over her naked body while he stepped back into his boxer briefs. 

“Why don’t you pick up this mess while I disinfect the counter and warm up dinner?” she proposed. 

“I feel like I got the raw end of this deal,” he said, even as he set to picking up their clothes spread around the kitchen. “Especially since I have to do the dishes after we eat.” 

“I cook, you clean,” Sabrina quipped. “That’s the deal, Scratch.” She grinned. “Besides, it’s Monday night. Since you aren’t _remotely_ interested in what’s happening on _The Bachelorette,_ you’ll be happier in the kitchen, washing dishes.” 

“I forgot it was desperation night,” Nick grumbled. Sabrina choked back her laugh. Nick hemmed and hawed about her love of the dating reality show, acted like it was absolute torture to sit next to her for a couple of hours every Monday night to watch the drama unfold, swore the whole lot of them were desperate, but he could also recount every detail of the show and she had coaxed his favorite suitor out of him the week before.

“You love it,” she teased as she turned the roast back on to warm. 

“I love you,” he countered. His arms full of clothes, he came behind her and kissed her cheek. 

“I love you,” she replied. She turned her head so she could peck his lips. “Thanks for giving my aunt a parking ticket today.” 

“Expect a calendar invitation for her court date,” Nick said. “You’ll have to help me recover from that, so I don’t want you making other plans. I’ll need a pound cake, too, so be sure to put my order in with Hilda in a timely fashion.” 

Sabrina’s laughter followed him out of the kitchen. He smiled to himself as he reached their bedroom. He dropped the clothes in his arms in a pile on the floor - Sabrina would fuss about that later, remind him that the hamper was _right there_ \- but he liked to see her all riled up. It was fun to calm her down. 

As he fished out a pair of gym shorts and a t-shirt from his dresser to lounge around the house in for the rest of the evening, he was sure of his choice. His home, his life, was in Greendale 

It was in the kitchen, wearing his t-shirt, fussing with dinner and talking to his - their - dog like Dublin was a person. 

He would call his former superior in the morning, turn him down once more. He would put in a good word for Officer Craig, recommend him for the NYPD. He was a talented young kid that had never been outside of Greendale. Craig would be an asset to the department and it would do him some good to see something other than his small town. 

He tripped over the pile of clothing as he pulled on his shirt midstep, eager to get back to Sabrina, to sit down to dinner with her and hear about her day, tell her about the rest of his. He grinned a bit, anticipating her reaction to finding the clothes on the floor the next time she went into their bedroom. He planned to get the dishes out of the way as quickly as possible so he could prop his feet up on the coffee table and put an arm around Sabrina while she watched that stupid show he couldn’t help but get sucked into. 

This wasn’t the life he imagined for himself a year ago. 

But it was the only one he wanted now. 

With Sabrina Spellman by his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff and stuff. Don't you just love them? And of course Nick gave Zelda a parking ticket. He is a man of the law, after all. I'm sure she took it WELL. 
> 
> If you've got a scene from Off The Record you'd like to see more of, request it in the comments. I might surprise you! 
> 
> (And some of you have asked, I swear I'm posting my Part 4 story soon! Just need a title. :))


	5. Foot Surgery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have several of these one shots almost finished - may as well finish them and maybe even write some more in lockdown. 
> 
> To set the scene: This takes place a few weeks after Harvey shot Nick, which resulted in Nick's shoulder injury and then there was the whole cut brake lines thing where he got into an accident and broke his foot which he didn't take care of... And now he's having surgery. 
> 
> (If you haven't read Off The Record yet, these one shots will make a whole lot more sense if you click on my username and then read that!)

“Nick.”

Nick groaned and turned his head away from the noise.

“Nicholas.”

He made a face, willing the noise to go away.

“Nick.” A hand went through his hair. “I know you want to sleep, but we need to leave in a half hour. Time to wake up.”

Begrudgingly, Nick blinked open his eyes. Sabrina was there, fully dressed and hovering over him like the angel she was.

“Good morning,” she greeted in a soft voice.

“What time is it?” Nick countered, voice scratchy with sleep.

“Not quite five.”

“Then it's still night,” Nick grumbled. “Morning doesn’t start until at least six-thirty.”

“You have to be at the hospital by six,” she reminded him.

“We’re fifteen minutes away from the hospital. Let me sleep.”

“I knew it would come down to this,” Sabrina said. “That’s why I’m waking you up now - to get you out of bed, dressed, and out the door on time. I’m padding our leaving because I know how you are in the mornings.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Come on, Scratch. Humor me.”

She pulled the comforter back. Nick groaned loudly and draped his good arm over his face. Sabrina smiled in spite of the situation. She had quickly learned Nick wasn’t a morning person if he woke up earlier than he wanted to. It was fine to wake up early if he was the one setting the clock, but no other situation would do.

“Reschedule,” he requested. “Tell them I’m sick.”

“No can do.” She flipped on the overhead light, flooding the room with a harsher brightness than the lamp on the nightstand offered. “You’re getting that foot fixed today and we’re not going to argue about it.”

“You’re bossy.”

“You’re stubborn.”

“Pot calling the kettle black, isn’t it?”

A smile worked at Sabrina’s lips.

“I’ll give you that, but I’m going to win this argument so you may as well save yourself the trouble and get out of bed, Nicholas.”

Nick sighed, well aware that he had never stood a chance.

“Fine.”

He was slow to push himself up to a seated position, impaired by his braced arm and broken ribs. Sabrina refrained from helping him, letting him maneuver on his own to give him as much of the independence he was used to as she could. She was there to offer him his crutch once he made it to the edge of the bed, however. He groaned a bit as he awkwardly struggled to his feet, his body protesting his movements with all it had.

“Happy?” he asked.

“No,” Sabrina shook her head. “I haven’t been kissed good morning yet.”

That got a small smile out of Nick.

“I should withhold my good morning kiss. For waking me up so early.”

“You’re the one that didn’t take care of your foot,” Sabrina reminded him. “Had you listened to the doctor the first time around…”

“I had other things to worry about,” Nick countered. “All the same, get over here, Spellman.”

She smiled a bit as she approached him. One hand went to his waist, the other to his uninjured shoulder. She tilted her chin upward and his lips landed on hers. She hummed in satisfaction when he pulled away a few moments later.

“That’s more like it,” she approved. She surveyed him. “How are you feeling?”

“Not terrible.”

Sabrina raised an eyebrow.

“Try again.”

“My shoulder is throbbing,” he admitted. He didn’t know why he continued to try and cover how bad he felt from her. She saw right through him. “My foot doesn’t feel great either.”

“The doctor doesn’t want you to take pain meds before surgery,” she ran her hand down his good arm. “Will you be okay until we get there?”

“I’ll have to be,” he sighed. “Let’s get this over with. I imagine I’ll be so doped up on drugs by lunch I won’t feel much of anything so it’ll be a wash in the end.”

“That’s the spirit, I suppose,” Sabrina muttered. “Any preferences for what you wear today?”

“Something comfortable,” Nick said. “Sweatpants and a shirt, I guess.”

Sabina could sense his melancholy mood. She didn’t comment on it, but kissed his cheek in silent support before going to his dresser. She knew he hated this, his mobility limited, his reliance on her to help him with normally simple things like picking out his clothes so complete. It would do no good to remind him this was only a season and wouldn’t last forever, not right now, when he was in the moment.

With the patience of a saint, she helped Nick into his clothes, ever mindful of his injuries. In the three weeks since Harvey’s attack, the bruises on his chest and torso were still prominent reminders of where the bullets had struck his vest, only just starting to yellow around the edges, a reminder of how deep they went and the force of the bullets that caused them. His ribs, while better, still caused him a lot of discomfort. Both his shoulder and foot were especially painful, given he hadn’t been allowed even Tylenol since the night before.

“Thank you, Sabrina,” he sighed once he was dressed. “I know I say it a lot, but I mean it…”

“Nick,” she quieted him by putting her hands on either side of his face. “There’s no need to thank me.” He kissed her in response, then followed her from the bedroom, him moving slowly as she fluttered ahead, packing her laptop in her bag and grabbing a book to tide her over while she waited.

“How long is this supposed to take?” he asked, well aware that she had paid close attention to everything his doctor said, had asked far more questions than he had, so much so he had eventually tuned her out with the decision that she would fill him in later. Which she had, several times over. He reasoned he should have listened better, but talking about his injuries and recovery process wasn’t his favorite topic of discussion.

“The doctor said one to two hours once they get started.” She was fully aware that he had only half listened to her when she tried to go over everything the doctor told him, annoyed by the fact that he needed surgery. “You’ll spend some time in the recovery room after and once the doctor is satisfied that everything went well and there are no side effects from the anesthesia, I can bring you home.”

“I still don’t understand why they can’t just do local anesthesia,” he complained. “It’s a foot, not open heart surgery.”

“You need to be relaxed,” Sabrina reminded him. “And Nicholas Scratch? You will not be relaxed if you’re awake during surgery.”

“I’m assuming I’ll be able to get from the car to the house after all of this?” he continued. “I’ll probably still be out of it…”

“You’ll be fine,” she assured him. She didn’t dare tell him she had already asked Ambrose to come over and help her get him inside when they got back that afternoon. Nick would be groggy and not able to put weight on his foot. With his shoulder still immobile, it was going to be a little more complicated than she would like to get him out of the car and up the few porch stairs. But they would figure it out. They always did.

“Sabrina, I don’t know if this is a good idea…”

She heard his panic and went to him.

“Nick, you’re going to be fine.” She took his hand in both of hers. “Your foot needs to be repaired so it can heal. The sooner the better. This is the ideal time. You can’t work right now anyway - may as well get your foot taken care of.”

“But you… I’m asking so much of you…”

“I love you,” she told him. “That’s all there is to it. I am more than happy to take care of you.” She let go with one hand and reached up to brush his hair off his forehead. “In fact, I kind of like it.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” he promised. “When I’m healed…”

Sabrina just shook her head. Nick spent a lot of time fretting over how much help he needed, how she was there, taking care of him. She would never be able to make him see that there was nowhere else she wanted to be.

“Ready to go?” she asked.

“Not like I have a choice,” he grumbled.

The ride to the hospital was uneventful. Because he was the first surgery of the day - Sabrina’s doings, helped along with the fact that he was the detective that ultimately arrested and ended Harvey Kinkle’s reign of terror - Nick was called back quickly. Sabrina was allowed to go with him and stayed up until the point when the nurse kicked her out.

“I’ll see you soon,” she promised, kissing first his forehead and then his lips.

“You’ll be here when I wake up?” he asked, abandoning all pretenses and letting his nerves show. The idea of surgery and of being put to sleep unsettled him in the pit of his stomach.

“I promise,” Sabrina nodded. “I love you, Scratch.”

“I love you,” he replied. “I love you so much, Sabrina…” He was starting to panic.

“Shhh,” she soothed. “It’s going to be fine, Nick. You’re going to be fine. I’ll see you in a little bit.”

“I love you,” he said again.

“I love you, too.”

Sabrina gave him one last kiss before she begrudgingly left his side, cementing the image of Nick once more in a hospital bed in a hospital-issued gown in her brain. Even if the surgery was supposed to be routine and quick, there was still a risk, like there was with any surgery. The worry was real, present. She took a seat in the waiting room and tried to work for a while to distract herself but still checked the clock often, wondering how things were going, if Nick was okay.

Less than two hours later, the doctor emerged.

“Sabrina?” he smiled.

“How is he?” She put her laptop aside.

“Surgery went perfectly,” he assured her. “He’s in recovery and starting to regain consciousness. He’s groggy and not making a lot of sense, but he asked for you. I assured him I would come get you myself.”

“I can see him?” she clarified.

“You may,” he nodded. She quickly packed her things and followed the doctor through the double doors he had come through. She nodded politely at a nurse she recognized, too familiar with the staff of the hospital for her liking. “I took the opportunity to look at his shoulder while he was under,” the doctor told her as they walked. “He’s healing well. Slower than I’m sure he’d like, but on schedule all the same.”

“And his foot?” Sabrina pressed.

“It will be as good as new in a couple or three months - if he behaves himself this time.”

“He will,” Sabrina assured him. The doctor chuckled.

“I don’t doubt it.”

He left her at the door of Nick’s room with a promise to be by to check in on him soon. She let herself in, and stood at the end of his bed for a moment, taking him in. His head lulled to one side as he dozed, his arm securely in its sling. His foot was heavily bandaged and braced, propped up on a stack of pillows. A monitor nearby chirped away, his vitals stable. She had learned to read those during her time spent waiting for him to wake up after the surgery that saved his life. She moved to his side, lowered her bag to the ground, and reached out to brush his hair back. The gesture caused him to stir.

“Sabrina?”

He blinked open his eyes. They were a little unfocused, his pupils dilated, his cognitive ability woozy. Still, he found her as her hand settled on his cheek.

“Hi,” she greeted softly. “I hear you were asking for me.” His only answer was to hum and lean into her touch. His eyes fluttered shut. “Surgery went well. Your foot should be as good as new in a couple of months or so. The doctor said your shoulder continues to heal nicely, too.”

“I wanna go home,” he mumbled. Sabrina smiled.

“We’ll go home soon,” she promised. “Once the anesthesia wears off a bit more.” Her thumb stroked his cheek. “Do you need anything?”

He was asleep again. Sabrina leaned over and pressed her lips to his forehead just as she had earlier, then settled in the chair next to him to wait. She read for a while, interrupted by a nurse who popped her head in to check on Nick who grumbled a bit but didn’t fully wake up. Nearly a full hour passed before his voice broke the quiet.

“Sabrina?”

The grogginess had lessened, but everything was still hazy around the edges.

“I’m here.” She put the book aside and went to him. He reached for her hand. He caught her fingers and held them loosely. “How are you feeling, Scratch?”

“Drunk or hungover,” he said. “I can’t decide.” Sabrina chuckled a bit.

“Any pain?” she questioned.

“A little. It’s not unbearable though.” She nodded.

“Do you need anything?”

“Water,” he said right away. “And maybe a kiss.”

“You’re definitely okay then,” Sabrina said wryly. She picked up the plastic hospital-issued water bottle she had filled for him earlier, anticipating his request. She held it for him while he sipped slowly, exerting more energy than he had in his current state. When he was finished, she put the water aside and lightly kissed his lips.

“That was weak,” he said, eyes heavy.

“You just had surgery,” she reminded him with an amused smile. “And you’re still half out of it.” She ruffled his hair. “I’ll do better once I have you home.”

“You better,” he mumbled, making Sabrina laugh a bit. “Did everything go okay?”

He didn’t remember waking up earlier.

“Perfectly,” Sabrina assured him. “You’ll be good as new in a couple of months. If you behave and listen to doctor’s orders this time.”

“More like listen to your orders,” Nick said, his filter down.

“I run a tight ship,” Sabrina played along. “No misbehaving on my watch.”

“When can I go home?” Nick questioned.

“It’ll be another couple of hours or so,” she guessed. “You’re still pretty groggy and they said they want you to be able to stand on your own and use your knee scooter a bit before they release you.”

Nick immediately tried to sit up as though to prove he was capable of standing on his own.

“Ow!” he bit out as pain seared through him, from his shoulder or his ribs he wasn’t sure. “Son of a bitch!”

“Easy, detective,” Sabrina gently guided him back to the pillows. “Let the anesthesia wear off a little more, okay? Before you do something stupid, hurt yourself more, and end up an overnight patient.”

Nick muttered under his breath, but didn’t protest further.

“I still don’t want that knee scooter,” he said after the pain ebbed.

“It’s that or a wheelchair,” Sabrina reminded him. “You can’t navigate on a crutch right now, Nick. You shouldn’t have been these last few weeks anyway, but you could at least put some weight on your foot. Now that you’ve had surgery, you’ll be non-weight bearing for a while.”

“I could use a crutch,” Nick argued. “You and the good doctor won’t let me.”

“Best behavior,” Sabrina reminded him with a stern look. “You’re not off to a good start.” He had the good sense to look abashed.

“Maybe get the doctor for me?” he asked, using his puppy dog eyes on her. “I want to hurry this process along a little bit. I’d recover better in my own house.”

“You’re incorrigible,” Sabrina stated. “But yes, I’ll go find your doctor.”

“Maybe ask him if I can have some food, too,” Nick suggested. “I’m starving.”

“It’s nearly lunch and you haven’t had anything since dinner last night,” Sabrina observed. “I’ll see about food.”

“Vending machine food though,” Nick continued. “Not the cafeteria crap. I had enough of that when I was in the hospital a few weeks ago.”

“Vending machine junk food it is,” Sabrina said patiently. She was a bit amused at Nick’s disgruntled, almost bratty, behavior. She knew it was a combination of the drugs and his annoyance at being sidelined at the moment, but she found it endearing. For now. If it continued, she had a feeling they would have a strongly worded discussion about it. “I’ll be right back.”

She made to let go of his hand and walk away, but he held firm, causing her to turn back to him.

“Kiss me first,” he requested. “I’m wounded.”

Sabrina rolled her eyes but smiled. She leaned down and kissed him sweetly.

“Better, but still not great,” he said when she pulled away. She batted at his good arm playfully.

“Behave,” she admonished.

“Not my fault you let me in on how good of a kisser you are,” he quipped.

“I’m going to get your doctor,” she informed him. “I may ask him about giving you some more of that sedative.”

“Love you, Spellman,” Nick smiled at her.

“Love you, Scratch.”

She winked at him and then was gone.

In her absence, Nick struggled upright and tried to check out his newly repaired foot. It was too hard for him to move, however, his ribs protesting, his shoulder throbbing. His foot felt heavy and it hurt. He realized he was still wearing the hospital issued gown. He looked around, searching for his clothes, not really sure how he was going to navigate off the bed and into them but willing to try. He had managed to maneuver his legs over the edge of the bed when Sabrina returned.

“What, exactly, do you think you’re doing, Scratch?”

She had bags of chips, a candy bar, and peanut butter cups in her hands, along with a diet soda. She dumped the junk food on the edge of his bed and put her drink down on a countertop.

“I was going to get dressed,” he confessed.

Sabrina surveyed him.

“Can you wait a few minutes?” she bargained. “Your doctor is on his way to look you over.” She smirked. “He’s got your scooter.”

Nick groaned. Sabrina sat beside him on the bed. She ran her hand down his back, her fingers dancing along the skin exposed by the tie back of his hospital gown. Her hand came to a stop at the elastic of his boxer briefs.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he warned her with a glint in his eye.

“You’re still benched on that aspect of our relationship,” she reminded him. Still, her hand ran back up his spine. “Chips?”

“Please,” Nick agreed. Sabrina passed him a bag and opened the other for herself. Before he dug into his, he leaned over and kissed Sabrina’s cheek. She looked at him.

“What was that for?” she wondered.

“I love you,” he said simply. She kissed his jaw in return.

“I love you, too.”

They ate their snacks, sharing the candy and peanut butter cups. Sabrina was licking the peanut butter off her fingertips when the doctor appeared.

“Detective Scratch,” he greeted. “Ignoring orders again?”

“I thought I was going to get dressed,” Nick replied. “Sabrina interrupted my mission.” The doctor chuckled, well-versed in his patient’s desire to disregard the rules in the name of doing whatever he had set his mind to.

“Sabrina was a problematic patient too,” the doctor shared. “She broke her arm when she was eleven and wanted nothing to do with doctor’s orders. I believe we went through three casts before it was healed.”

“Really?” Nick asked, looking at Sabrina with a raised eyebrow. “Funny how you never told me about that.”

“I forgot,” Sabrina tried.

“Sure,” Nick agreed with a smirk. “That’s what happened.” He knew what happened. She didn’t want him to know she was as difficult as he was. “I want to hear about how you broke your arm, Spellman.”

“I’ll tell you at home,” she told him with a warning look. His smirk grew. She rolled her eyes. He chuckled and heard his doctor do the same.

“Speaking of home,” the doctor said, “let’s see what we can do about getting you in that direction.”

“Smartest thing anyone around here has said today,” Nick agreed. Sabrina squeezed his thigh before she slid off the bed to allow the doctor room to work. Nick took a deep breath and reminded himself that this was just a blip in time. In a few months, he would be as good as new, back at work, back to walking down the street under his own power, back to feeling like he was taking care of Sabrina, even if he knew she could take care of herself just fine.

He glanced at Sabrina, even as he winced at what the doctor was doing to his foot.

The first thing he planned to do when he had full use of his limbs was wrap the woman he loved in his arms. Whether he would let her go again was anyone’s guess.

* * *

“How are you feeling, Scratch?”

Sabrina settled next to Nick on the couch, curling her legs under her. Her elbow rested on the back of the couch, her hand propping up her head. Dublin lifted her head from Nick’s lap, her big body curled on Nick’s other side. She had always been protective of him, followed him from room to room, at least until Sabrina came along, but since he came home from the hospital, she had been glued to him, her self-appointed duty to watch over him. Sabrina scratched her head in greeting.

“I’m okay,” he assured her.

“How is the pain?”

“A dull ache now.” She raised an eyebrow. “That’s the truth,” he assured her. “The meds helped.” An hour ago, his foot had decided to let him know it didn’t appreciate being cut open and repaired. The pain hadn’t been nearly as intolerable as what he endured when he woke up at the hospital right after being shot, but it was still up there on the pain scale. “I’m a little tired though.”

Sabrina watched him for a moment. His eyes seemed a little dazed, his color maybe a little off.

“Are you sure you feel okay?” she pressed. “You look a little woozy.”

“I maybe should have eaten something before I took those pain meds,” he confessed. “It’s been a while since we had those sandwiches we picked up on the way home and I feel a little weak.”

“You should have said something if you were hungry,” Sabrina scolded.

“You were working in the kitchen and I took a nap when we got home,” he reminded her. “I wasn’t really hungry, either. I’m still not, but I think I may need to eat something.”

Sabrina ran a sympathetic hand through his curls. His hair was a little longer than usual and certainly a lot more messy, but she liked it. He was handsome regardless, but she found she preferred his more casual messy at home look to his coiffed Detective Scratch look. The less put together version felt like it was meant just for her, that it was the real him he let so few people see.

“Hilda stopped by while you were napping,” she told him. “She left both chili and cheddar broccoli soup, as well as homemade bread bowls. Any of that appeal to you?”

“Chili,” Nick decided. “This is why Hilda is my favorite Spellman.”

“Offensive,” Sabrina stated. Nick chuckled despite how out of it he felt.

“You haven’t followed up on that kiss you promised me at the hospital. I’ve been forced to knock you down my list.”

“I’m guessing I still beat out Zelda?”

“Currently,” Nick confirmed. “But she does have a soft spot for me. Something about arresting the serial killer that wanted to murder her niece.”

“Skipping right over that,” Sabrina said, deciding not to let Harvey take up any room in her thoughts right then. She put her hand on Nick’s cheek and leaned in. She placed her lips on his and gave him a long, lingering kiss. “How was that?” she asked when she pulled away.

“It helped your cause,” Nick said seriously. “But Hilda made bread bowls.”

“You’re lucky you had surgery today and I feel inclined to be nice to you.” He smiled and leaned into her hand resting on his cheek. She pecked his lips again. “I’ll go get us dinner - chili for you, soup for me. You want cheese, sour cream, and corn chips, right?”

“You know me well, Spellman.”

“Even if I’m not your favorite Spellman?” she countered with a teasing glint. His response was a tired wink. She exited the room with a promise to be right back with dinner.

In the kitchen, she paused at the island and took just a moment to let a single tear fall. It came from a confusing place, where her emotions were grateful Nick was alive, consumed by love for him, furious that he had to go through so much because of Harvey, guilty that she was the one that put him in danger in the first place. She had only just started to see a therapist to help her with her raging emotions and process what she had gone through. She had hope that it would help, but sometimes, like today, when Nick struggled or when she saw Roz hurting or Theo trying to navigate his own shoulder injury or even when she walked past the library or church where Cassius and Father Blackwood had their lives snuffed away, it all felt that much heavier.

With effort, she took a shuttering deep breath and blew it out. She pulled herself together with a single nod and focused on warming their dinner, chili for Nick, soup for her. She was preparing a tray to bring to Nick when she heard his scooter. He emerged in the kitchen, Dublin with him, a few moments later.

“What are you doing in here, Scratch?” she asked.

“I thought I’d eat dinner at the island,” he said, his sharp eyes on her. “I’ve been a sloth, sitting on the couch for most of my day, every day, these last few weeks.”

“Okay,” Sabrina agreed. “We’ll eat at the island.”

She felt his eyes on her as she worked to bring their food from the counter to the island. He kept his eyes on her as she slid onto the stool beside him, his detective mind spinning.

“Sabrina.”

“Nick.”

“Don’t do that,” he warned.

“Don’t do what?” she asked innocently.

“Try to pretend like you’re okay.”

“I’m…

“Sabrina,” Nick cut her off with a serious tone.

Sabrina sighed and put her spoon down. She turned on her stool to look at Nick. He looked concerned. He raised an eyebrow, prompting her to share what was going on behind the front she was trying to put on.

“Sometimes, this is a lot,” she admitted.

“I know,” Nick agreed. He looked guilty. “I’m sorry…”

“No,” Sabrina cut him off this time. “Don’t you apologize for needing my help. That’s not what I mean.” Her hand fell over his. “You’re in this shape because of me.” Nick opened his mouth to protest. “Don’t,” she shook her head. “If I would have done the right thing - come right to you and Ambrose when I figured out it was Harvey murdering my friends - you wouldn’t have gotten hurt. But more than that, if I wasn’t the daughter of Edward Spellman, none of this would have happened in the first place. So many people died because of me…”

“Sabrina, that’s not true,” Nick said in a gentle but stern tone. He turned his hand over and laced his fingers with hers. “Harvey is the sole responsible party. He’s the one that took those lives, not you. I know it’s really hard for you to believe that. I know all too well how easy it is to blame yourself for something that’s not your fault. But you are not responsible.” He squeezed her hand. “I would do all of this all over again to protect you.”

“It is really hard for me to believe that this isn’t my fault,” she shared. “Especially today when I had to watch you go through surgery, again, because of Harvey who did what he did because of me.”

“Honestly, Sabrina, I don’t think it would have mattered if you came to me and Ambrose or not. Harvey was never going to come quietly.” He turned on his stool so he was fully facing her. He tugged her hand to pull her off the stool and to him. He dropped her hand, only to wrap his arm around her. She leaned into his embrace, tucked between his legs, her own arms sliding gingerly around his neck to avoid his shoulder. “I love you, Spellman.”

“I love you,” she replied. She nuzzled his neck. “When you’re all healed and the trial is over, let’s run away.”

“Why wait?” Nick countered, only half joking.

“Because I want you to heal correctly this time and I want to see Harvey sentenced for myself,” she told him.

“Fair enough,” Nick agreed. “But let’s really run away. For a week or two, at least. I think we’ve earned a vacation.”

“Me too,” Sabrina agreed. She kissed his cheek and pulled away. “You need to eat. You said you weren’t feeling great. You need something on your stomach.”

“You know, when you say things like that, you can’t deny your relation to Hilda,” he stated as she slid onto her stool once more. “Shame you can’t cook like her.”

Sabrina scoffed, the mood instantly changing.

“Nicholas Scratch!”

“I’m sorry, Sabrina. It’s not that you’re a bad cook.” He held up a spoonful of chili. “But when I compare your food to this? Sorry, babe, but you’re going to lose to Hilda every single time.”

“I know you’re not wrong, but that’s still a brave thing to say to your girlfriend, Mr. Scratch. Especially after calling her your favorite Spellman earlier”

“I had surgery today,” he reminded her. “I can’t be held responsible for what I say.”

Sabrina rolled her eyes, but smiled.

“Eat,” she said again. “We’ll spend the rest of the evening on the couch.”

“Can we make out?” Nick asked with a mischievous grin. “It might bump you back to favorite Spellman if you say yes.”

She considered him.

“I’ll allow it.”

He pumped his fist, making Sabrina laugh.

And just like that, her mood was boosted. Nick tended to be able to do that for her, to reframe her worries, soothe the hurt. She smiled to herself as she watched him eat. She leaned over and kissed his check.

“What was that for?” he asked, giving her a grin of her own. She shrugged a shoulder.

“Just felt like kissing you.”

“Kiss away, Spellman,” he approved. “Especially if it cheers you up.”

Sabrina laughed and resumed eating.

Things weren’t okay, exactly. But they would be. As long as she had the man next to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sigh. They're so sweet and in love. 
> 
> What one shots do you want to see? I've gotten some great ideas from you - keep 'em coming!


	6. These Arms Are Yours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today felt like a great day to finish and post one of the one shots I've been working on for a bit. Am I suppose to be doing my actual job? Yes. But you guys understand...

Nick waited anxiously for his doctor’s return. He drummed the fingers of his right hand on the plastic covered bed he perched on. He had seen enough of the inside of hospital rooms and doctor’s offices over the last few months to last him a lifetime. He was hopeful that this would be one of the last times, at least for a while. 

There was a knock on the door and a moment later, it swung open. His orthopedic surgeon, Dr. Phillips, entered with a neutral expression. 

“Well?” Nick asked. 

“Impatient are you, Detective Scratch?” Dr. Phillips replied. 

“I was impatient two months ago,” Nick countered. “I’m well past that.” 

Dr. Phillips chuckled. 

“It’s been a long ten weeks for you, hasn’t it?” 

“It’s only been ten weeks? It feels like ten years.” 

“Let’s take a look, shall we?” Dr. Phillips took a seat on a stool in front of a computer screen and quickly entered his login information. He asked Nick a few questions to confirm his identity which made Nick roll his eyes. He had spent so much time with Dr. Phillips over the 10 weeks since Harvey shot him that it wouldn’t surprise him if the man had his social security number memorized but it was part of hospital protocol. “This is your initial x-ray.” 

Nick peered at the black and white film of his shoulder. He was no medical professional, but the damage Harvey’s bullet did to his shoulder and surrounding area was clear. He cringed a bit as he took it in, painfully aware of how close to death he had been by the time they got him to the hospital. 

“That was rough,” he said by way of comment. 

“That’s one way to put it,” Dr. Phillips agreed. He clicked the screen. Another image popped up. “This is post surgery. I believe you can see the difference?” 

“You’re referring to all that metal holding me together,” Nick nodded. He could see the pins and screws easily, knew his left shoulder was now pieced together with manmade materials. 

“There’s also substantial swelling,” Dr. Phillips pointed out a few spots. “Now this…” another image filled the screen, “is your image from today. The metal is all still there, but the swelling is gone and you can see how the bones have healed.” He pointed out a few ore places to Nick. “Detective, I’m pleased to announce that you can leave this place without your sling.” 

“Thank God,” Nick breathed in relief. “I don’t know that I could take another week with that thing.” 

Dr. Phillips chuckled. 

“To be clear, you’re not one hundred percent. I’m allowing you to go without the sling, but you’ve still got a long road of recovery ahead of you. Your range of motion needs a lot of work. I’m afraid you’re never going to have full range of motion again, but I think we can get you back to 80 to 90 percent if you behave yourself and work hard at the physical therapy I’m going to clear you for. I don’t want you out wrestling down suspects or even lifting something over ten pounds yet.” 

“But I could, say, hug my girlfriend?” Nick ventured. Dr. Phillips chuckled. 

“You can hug Sabrina,” he confirmed. “But know you’ll need to let her go.” 

“Debatable,” Nick countered. Dr. Phillips laughed outright. The young detective had shared his desire to properly hug his girlfriend often during recent appointments. 

“I want to examine you a bit further and have a look at that foot,” he said. “Then I’ll send you along your way.” 

Nick dutifully followed instructions, raising his arm as far as he could which wasn’t quite to shoulder height, squeezing the doctor’s hand, doing all sorts of exercises to test his strength and range of motion. He repeated the scenario with his foot which was now down to a compression brace and only hurt sometimes. He was finally, finally, starting to feel a little more like himself. 

When he left the doctor’s office, he took a moment to check his phone. Sabrina had texted him to ask how his appointment was doing, but he chose to ignore it. Instead, he checked her location and found she was at the newspaper office. He grinned and put his brand new Greendale PD-issued SUV in drive. Fifteen minutes later, he pulled to the curb. 

“Detective Scratch,” greeted the small office’s middle-aged secretary. “How are you today?” 

“I’m doing well, Louise,” he replied in what Sabrina called his ‘mayor’ voice. She and Ambrose liked to tell Zelda Nick was going to take her job as he had become well-liked throughout the community, both thanks to his heroics and his charisma. Zelda would hear nothing of it and Nick had no interest in political office, but there was no stopping those two Spellmans. “How are you? How is the granddaughter?” 

“I’m doing well and she’s perfect,” she said, beaming at the mention of her newborn first grandchild. “Sabrina is in her office. She just got back from an interview.” 

Nick thanked her and made his way to the back of the small house-turned-office. He paused in the doorway just to take her in. She didn’t work in her office much, preferring to be out in the field or working away at a table at the local coffee shop or even at home. He liked when he could occasionally stop by and find her there. She was focused on her screen, her ears plugged with earbuds as her fingers flew across her keyboard. Her office, unlike his, was tidy, everything with a place. He grinned and reached into his pocket. He produced a penny and expertly tossed it in her direction. 

She startled when it landed in her lap and looked his way. Her eyes lit up as he chuckled. 

“Nick!” She pulled her earphones out. “What are you doing here? I texted you…” 

“I ignored your text,” he stated, stepping further into the office. His arm was tucked in his jacket. “Thought I’d stop by in person.” 

“Well?” she asked, turning her chair to face him. “How did it go?” 

He didn’t answer. Instead, he walked around her desk and held out his right hand. She took it with curiosity and he pulled her to her feet. He looked in her eyes, feeling giddy. 

“Like I said, I thought I’d stop by in person.” 

His left arm appeared from under his jacket. Sabrina gasped. 

“You’re cleared?” 

“I’m cleared,” he confirmed as he pulled her to him, “to do this.” He brought her into him and for the first time in two and a half months, wrapped both arms around her. 

It was everything. 

Her small body fit into his as perfectly as it always had. She let out a shaky breath that made him wonder if she were fighting off tears as her embrace tightened around him. He kept one arm around her and ran the other up her back to hold her closer. 

“Nick,” she breathed, holding him tighter. “I thought I knew how much I missed this, but I was so very wrong.” 

“I’m not sure I’m going to let you go,” he confessed, holding her still tighter. “I’ve wanted to do this more than anything since the moment I woke up in that hospital bed and realized you were there.” He nuzzled her hair. “I’m sorry it took so long for me to be able to hold you.” 

“Don’t you dare apologize.” Sabrina chastied. “I’m just grateful you’re still here to hold me.” 

“Forever,” Nick promised. “I’ll be here to hold you forever.” He kissed her hair. She kissed his no longer injured shoulder. 

It was Sabrina that finally pulled away, but she kept her hands on his arms. Her wet eyes confirmed Nick’s suspicion that she had been near tears. He had certainly blinked his own away. 

“What did the doctor actually say?” she asked. She gave him a suspicious look. “You do have his okay not to wear your sling, don’t you?” Nick reached into his back pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. Without a word, he passed it to Sabrina. She shot him a curious glance before she unfolded it. She snorted. “A doctor’s note? Really, Nick?” 

“I told Dr. Phillips you might not believe me, so he offered to write a note. I took him up on it.” 

Sabrina laughed and shook her head. She put the note on her desk, deciding it was something she would keep forever, 

“You’re not wrong,” she admitted. “What else did he say, though? I’m sure you’re not one hundred percent…” 

“I’m not,” Nick admitted. “He told me no wrestling down suspects and I can’t lift very much. I start more rigorous physical therapy next week now that I’m sling free. My foot is healing well, too. I should be able to ditch the brace soon.” 

“You’re almost as good as new,” Sabrina mused. 

“I’m better than almost good as new,” Nick declared. He put his hands on either side of Sabrina’s face, just because he could. “I have you.” 

He kissed her, sweet and gentle. 

“Do you have to go back to work?” she wondered. 

“I do,” Nick sounded disappointed as his hands moved down her arms before dropping back to his side. “I’ve got court this afternoon. Traffic tickets.” 

“That’s unfortunate,” Sabrina pouted. Nick chuckled, sensing where her mind was going. 

“I wouldn’t worry about starting anything for dinner.” He reached out and trailed a finger down her bare arm. “I’ve got two free arms now and plans to use them when I get home.” 

“What would those plans be?” she wondered. 

“I plan on surprising you.” 

He kissed her again, but his intentions were clear. 

“Damn you for writing traffic tickets,” she breathed when he pulled away. He chuckled and kissed her again, this one brief, but potent. 

“I do have regrets for doing my job right about now,” he said. “I have regrets most court days, but especially today.” 

“So I’ll see you at home?” Sabrina asked. 

“You’ll see me at home,” he confirmed. “I love you.” She beamed and he wondered if he would ever stop feeling the little flip in his stomach when she looked at him like that. 

“I love you, too.” 

He made to leave, but she stopped him at the door. 

“Scratch?” He turned back to her and she smiled again. “I’m glad you’ve got two working arms now.” 

Nick made a show of holding both of his arms out and twisting side to side as though he were modeling them, making her laugh. He grew a little more serious, however. 

“These arms are yours,” he told her. “To hold you, love you, protect you. Always.” 

Tears sprang to Sabrina’s eyes. 

“You cannot go to traffic court,” she informed him. “Not after you say things like that. Not after you hug me for the first time in two-and-a-half months. I simply cannot allow you to go off to court now.” 

“I’ll be held in contempt if I don’t show,” Nick said, his desire to stay with her clear. “You know Prudence will do it, just because she can.” 

“Make it fast?” Sabrina requested. “Let them all off the hook, if you have to.” Nick took a step towards her. Sabrina put her hand up. He stopped and raised an eyebrow. “You come any closer and I’m absolutely not going to be able to let you leave. Which does in fact mean I’ll have to come bail you out of jail because Prudence is the devil incarnate.” 

“I’ll stay put then,” Nick said with a grin. “I love you, Spellman.” 

“And I love you, Scratch,” she said again. 

“Be home when I get home,” he said with a pointed eyebrow. 

“I’m on my way,” she promised. “I think there’s a good chance you’ll like what you find waiting for you.” 

Nick winked at her as he backed out of the room. When he was gone, Sabrina blew out an exhale. She was certain the temperature in her office had risen several degrees in the last few minutes. She saved the article she was working on, deciding she would finish it at home as she had a deadline in two hours and started packing her things. 

She glanced at the clock. It was just after one o’clock. Nick would likely be home sometime between five and six. She had plenty of time to finish up her piece and make sure he was welcomed home properly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nick's got two working arms now and he's not afraid to use 'em. 
> 
> I've got a few more of these mostly finished... Christmas... an engagement... Which one should I finish first? 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	7. Merry Little Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We needed this. 
> 
> Utter fluff. 
> 
> If you'll remember from "Off The Record," Nick got shot a few a days before Thanksgiving. He's still pretty banged up as we pick up our missing scene two weeks later, just in time for Christmas.

“You need a Christmas tree.”

Nick lifted his head from the pillow it was resting on to look at Sabrina.

“I need what?” he asked.

“A Christmas tree,” she repeated in a matter-of-fact tone. “You need one.”

Nick let his head drop back to the pillow.

“I haven’t had a tree since I moved out of Nonna’s.”

“That’s sad,” she declared.

“No, it’s not. I usually worked Christmas anyway.”

Sabrina looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“You’re certainly not going to work this Christmas, not with those injuries.”

“Christmas is still three weeks away. I wouldn’t rule it out.”

He knew before the words finished tumbling from his lips that he had said the wrong thing.

“Nicholas Scratch!” Nick groaned. He recognized that tone. “You nearly died two weeks ago. You’re still in a lot of pain, can’t use one arm, and are having surgery on your foot in a few days. If you think you’re going to that police station…”

“I take it back,” he mumbled.

She didn’t hear him, or if she did, she chose not to acknowledge him. .

“I know sitting around, resting and healing, is hard for you. But you don’t have much of a choice. I don’t want to hear another word about you going back to work until at least the new year. _At least.”_

“Why do I need a Christmas tree again?” he asked, trying to change the subject from one he knew from experience that Sabrina could go on about for a while if she got good and wound up.

“Because it’s nearly Christmas!” Sabrina waved her hands around the living room. He winced a bit as her animated reaction jarred his legs which were draped over her lap while he laid on the couch. The movement made his foot, propped up on a stack of pillows, throb. “You can’t celebrate Christmas without a tree, Nick.”

“A Christmas tree isn’t that big of a deal to me, Sabrina,” he said honestly. “I don’t care if I have one or not.”

Sabrina’s pout told him this, too, was the wrong thing to say.

“Well _I_ would like a Christmas tree,” she stated. “If I’m going to be spending time here,” she cut her eye at him, “then I would like it to feel a bit more festive. Especially since my aunts already decorated the mortuary. Without me.”

_And there it is,_ thought Nick.

“You want to put a Christmas tree here because you feel left out,” he deduced.

“No…”

“Sabrina.”

“Fine,” she huffed. “I love decorating for Christmas, Nick, and they didn’t so much as think about asking me if I’d like to spend an afternoon putting up a tree. They just did it!”

“Ambrose was rather happy to get it out of it,” Nick recalled. “He was at Prudence’s when all of that went down.”

“Ambrose is an idiot, and he still got to put up a Christmas tree because _Prudence_ put one up,” Sabrina informed him. “Prudence! Prudence has a Christmas tree. Nick, you should at least…”

“You can put up a tree,” he cut her off. “If it means this much to you, and you really want to put up a tree, you can put a tree up.” She was watching him, but there was still a bit of a pout on her lips. “What?” She pursed her lips. He sighed and ignored how his foot ached. “What, Sabrina?”

“I want _you_ to want to put a Christmas tree!” she burst out. “What’s the fun of putting one up if you don’t want one in the first place?”

“I never said I didn’t want one…”

“Yes you did! Maybe not in those words, but in the total noncommittal way that you were all ‘I haven’t had a tree in years, it’s not that important to me.’ Why would I go through the trouble of putting one up if you don’t want one in the first place? I would have never picked you for a scrooge, Nicholas Scratch.”

Nick raised an eyebrow. This was one of the more ridiculous arguments they’d had, and he wasn’t even sure it was an argument as he had never stood a chance at winning, but he went along with it anyway.

“I’m not a scrooge, Sabrina.” Slowly, he pushed himself upright with his good arm. She watched, holding back from helping him the way she wanted to, knowing he wanted - and needed - to do things for himself where he could. He winced as a sharp pain pushed through his shoulder. It settled back to it’s now familiar dull ache almost as quickly as it came. “I just haven’t had much of a reason to celebrate the holidays.” He used his good hand to squeeze her knee. “Until now.”

Sabrina considered him. She supposed he was right in saying he hadn’t had much of a reason to celebrate the holidays in recent years. With Nonna in the care facility, he hadn’t had someone to greet the holidays with. He had told her about the long hours he worked with the NYPD, the way he struggled with balance. Last Christmas, he had been fighting with Amalia with no idea that in just a few days, Amalia would be gone and his life would turn on its ear. She imagined he felt a bit jaded about the holiday season.

“So, I can put up a tree?” she asked hopefully. He smiled.

“If it’ll make you happy.”

She lit up. There was no way to stop her excitement from shining through. Nick knew Sabrina knew she was always going to win their Christmas tree non-argument. He could have outright refused to put up a Christmas tree, but there would have been one in his living room within the day anyway.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

Nick shrugged his good shoulder.

“Been better, been worse.”

“Would you be up for leaving the house?”

Nick’s suspicions rose.

“We’re going to get a Christmas tree right now, aren’t we?” he guessed.

Her smile only grew.

“Only if you feel up to it,” she said, pretending like she hadn’t been plotting ways to get a Christmas tree in his living room somehow, someway, for at least the last few hours. He had a feeling she could will one to materialize out of thin air if she really put her mind to it. “But if you’re not…”

“You’re playing dirty,” he informed her, already moving slowly to navigate off the couch. “You know I don’t miss a chance to get out of this house these days - especially if it's for something that’s not a damned doctor’s appointment.”

He didn’t think it was possible for Sabrina’s smile to get bigger, but it did.

“We’ll go to the tree lot downtown,” she said. “The Boy Scouts go out and cut down trees at a nearby farm, then sell them to raise money for their troop. They’ll help us load it onto,” she paused and smirked, “your Jeep!”

Nick groaned. She had been dying to drive his Jeep, and it seemed she had finally found a way to go about it. She was having all sorts of small victories that afternoon, including the fact that he had been lounging on the couch with her for most of it when he had thought he might at least _call_ the station and see what was going on, maybe have someone bring over some files on Harvey’s case for him to review. She had confiscated his phone and he still hadn’t gotten it back.

“You’re pushing your luck, Spellman.”

“You can’t drive,” Sabrina quipped happily. “And my car isn’t made for hauling trees around.” She watched Nick struggle to his feet. She made fists to stop herself from helping him. “This is turning into a really good day for me.’

“You’re lucky I love you,” Nick retorted. “I’m going to change my clothes before we go. We don’t need Greendale’s only detective showing up downtown in sweats.”

“If you need help…”

“I’ll let you know,” Nick finished with the patience he had been forced to cultivate since he was shot. “I’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

Sabrina occupied herself by putting on her boots and bundling up against the Greendale cold. She put Dublin in her harness, deciding to bring her along, and plucked Nick’s Jeep keys from the key rack by the door. She heard his crutch tapping along the hall. She considered him, his foot booted, his arm in a sling, as he leaned heavily on his crutch with his right side. She wavered.

“Are you sure you’re up for this, Scratch? I could have Ambrose…”

“Oh no, Spellman,” he cut her off with a shake of his head. “I did not go through the trouble to put on real clothes and get all excited about getting out of this house to have you change your mind.”

“If you’re sure…”

“Pass me my coat. And maybe my phone.”

He let her help him maneuver into the coat, his good arm through the sleeve, his damaged one still tucked at his side, the coat arm hanging useless. He grumbled a bit about not being able to use his arm, but kept his musings mostly to himself as he knew it wouldn’t do either of them any good. Sabrina was just happy to have him alive and he supposed a temporarily unavailable limb was better than the alternative. She had tucked his phone in his coat pocket already.

“Who cleared the snow off the Jeep?” Nick asked, noting the couple of inches of snow that had fallen the night before had disappeared from both his vehicle and Sabrina’s. “And the ice from the sidewalk, for that matter?”

“Spriggs, I think,” Sabrina shrugged. “Maybe Craig. It was early and I couldn’t tell - just saw a Greendale PD car parked on the curb and a heavily bundled officer shoveling.”

Nick just shook his head. It still took him by surprise, the lengths Greendale as a whole were willing to go through to help him, help Sabrina help him, while he was sidelined. He noted how Sabrina stayed close to him, ready to help just in case. It made him smile just a bit.

“Careful with my Jeep, Spellman,” Nick warned once they were both tucked safely into the vehicle, Dublin perched in the back. “Aside from you and my dog, this is my pride and joy.”

Sabrina smiled but rolled her eyes.

“I know how to drive, Scratch,” she informed him. “But I’ll have to adjust the seat.”

He pretended to be annoyed by her moving his seat around, making quips about how it would take him forever to adjust it back to the right place when he was finally allowed to drive again.

But he couldn’t deny it.

Sabrina looked good driving his Jeep.

That led him to another thought.

“I’ve mentioned it before, but you really should consider an upgrade in the vehicle department. That Toyota of yours is on its last leg.”

“It still runs,” Sabrina shrugged as she backed out of the driveway.

“Barely,” Nick stated. “It was in the shop just last week. I know Ambrose told you the same thing. You need something more reliable.”

“I’ll think about it,” she dismissed. She knew he was right. Her trusty Toyota had been a money pit for a while now. But it was a 16th birthday gift and she was rather attached to it. Still, once the calendar changed, she thought she might actually look into another vehicle. She glanced at Nick. “Or I could just drive yours. I hear you have a fancy new Greendale PD SUV on the way.”

“Not a chance, Spellman.”

Sabrina laughed. She saw Nick smile out of the corner of her eye.

It had been two weeks since Harvey’s was arrested and Nick shot in the process. They were both still healing, Nick physically, both mentally. But these moments, talking about driving Jeeps and buying new cars, felt - normal.

Normal felt really good.

* * *

“I have to hand it to you, Spellman.” Nick stood beside her as they studied the Christmas tree now on display in exactly the right spot - Sabrina had certainly debated it enough - in the living room. “This wasn’t your worst idea.” He glanced at her. “And you’ve had some bad ones.” .

“Haha,” Sabrina said dryly. She tilted her head, studying the tree critically. “It’s missing something.

“That tree cannot hold another ornament,” Nick stated.

Sabrina had purchased what he thought was every bauble and bell in the big box store, a stop he hadn’t known was part of their excursion until they were pulling into the Target parking lot, a new addition to the edge of Greendale, before going to pick out a tree. Choosing a tree had been an ordeal in and of itself. He was sure Sabrina had looked at every tree on the lot, some twice, before making up her mind, seemingly oblivious to the freezing cold that had settled into his bones despite his layers. Then came the hurdle of having to get the tree in the house and in a tree stand. Ambrose had been recruited for that task - his protests falling on deaf ears - with Nick offering what little help he could without his left appendages.

After a lot of turning the tree this way and that and making sure it was absolutely perfectly straight, Ambrose had wished Nick good look and fled the scene. Sabrina had then descended upon it with strands upon strands of lights, Nick put into service with one hand, his job to accept the strand of lights each time Sabrina passed them around the tree. His patience thinned while she fussed with wrapping them first close to the trunk then outward so they would shine a certain way, then there was a whole half hour dedicated to making sure they were evenly distributed.

Then the ornaments had come out. Every color, every shape. Nick was certain they would still be finding glitter on the floor six months from now. But he had to admit, as he helped her hang ornaments, that the tree was kind of - nice. It certainly added a fair bit of holiday cheer to his small, plain house. Sabrina, however, was positively glowing. It had been the right thing, agreeing to her Christmas tree wishes. The last few months had been hard for him, but they had been downright impossible for her. This lifted her spirits, and if she asked to put up another tree somewhere in the house, he would repeat all the chaos without complaint.

Or maybe with some complaint, because that’s what they did - she got a wild hair, he dug in and tried not to get pulled into her schemes, and the next thing he knew, he was along for the ride.

“It just - needs something,” she said again. She tilted her head to the other side and squinted at it in a scrutinizing sort of way.

“What about those silver tinsel icicles?” Nick suggested. Sabrina made a face.

“Absolutely not. Tinsel is tacky.”

“But all this glitter is fine?”

“Christmas is meant to be sparkly, Scratch.”

Nick shrugged his good shoulder. It wasn’t worth debating. He’d already lost.

“Wait!” She looked at him and he recognized her expression. She had an idea. “I know exactly…”

She walked out of the room. He frowned.

“Sabrina?”

He tried to follow her. It was slow going, as usual, and he had more than pushed the limits of what his body was capable of doing right now. Still, he kept moving. Today was the first time in two weeks had had felt somewhat of use. Dublin lifted her head from where she had curled up in what had become “her” chair and looked at him as though to check on him. He could hear Sabrina digging through the hallway closet.

“What is she doing now?” Nick grumbled to himself. Dublin got up to investigate. By the time he made it to the hallway, Sabrina was already walking towards him, a box in hand, glowing somehow brighter. His breath caught. He recognized that box. “Is that…”

“Ornaments from your Nonna,” she nodded. “I saw them when I was looking for an extra blanket a few weeks ago.”

“I forgot I brought those with me when I moved,” he admitted. “I only brought the basics, left a lot at her apartment.”

“Can we use them?” Sabrina asked, giving him the choice. She knew she had been a bit over the top for most of the day, even for her, and that Nick’s patience would only last but so much longer. She also knew he could be sensitive about things from his past.

“Let’s have a look,” he nodded. “I don’t really remember what’s in there.”

She stayed by his side as he made his way slowly back into the living room. They sat down together on the couch. Sabrina waited for him to give her a go ahead nod before she pulled the dusty lid off. It was marked “Christmas” in neat handwriting she knew didn’t belong to Nick. She pulled away a layer of old dusty packing paper. Beneath it, several delicate glass ornaments were packed carefully.

“I know these.” NIck reached out and touched one of the ornaments. “She brought a lot of these over from Italy when they migrated. Some of these ornaments are seventy years old, at least.”

“They’re beautiful,” Sabrina said. She was a bit in awe of them. Her aunts had a few old antique ornaments like this, treasured and valued for both their monetary worth and their sentimental meaning. These ornaments held a story and she wished with all her might that Nick’s grandmother was able to recall them. “Do you want to hang them on the tree? Or keep them in the box?”

“On the tree,” Nick decided. “But - carefully. And well-secured.” He smiled at her a bit. “You should probably do it. I don’t want to break any, but with one hand…”

“I’ll be careful,” she promised. “Hand them to me?”

Carefully, he passed her one ornament at a time from his place on the couch. She added them to the tree, taking care to secure them tightly to strong branches. When she went back to Nick for the last one, he was studying it closely with a wistful ghost of a smile on his face.

“Nick?” she prodded gently.

“Look at this.”

He held the ornament out to her. Unlike the others, this one was a child’s craft, handmade from popsicle sticks. She turned it around and a brilliant smile broke across her lips. A young Nick was featured in the frame made by the popsicle sticks which had been decorated with paint and stick-on rhinestones. The date in neat black sharpie was faded, but indicated he had been in kindergarten.

“You made this,” she said, glancing at him with a glint of fondness in her eye. She smirked a bit. “There’s even sparkle on it.”

“My teacher, Mrs. Babbock, did that,” Nick informed her. “I painted it and wanted to leave it like that. She said it needed a little something more and added the stickers and brush of glitter.”

“This needs to go front and center,” she decided. Nick just shook his head with a fond smile.

“There’s one more…” She raised an eyebrow. He reached into the box and produced a flat round ornament. “You’ll love this one.”

It was Nick’s infant handprint, pressed into a salt ornament and then preserved with a coating of lacquer. In loopy handwriting, “Nicholas’ First Christmas” was penned, along with the date.

“Oh, Nick.” She put her finger in the palm of his tiny handprint, wondering at the fact that that small hand had become the one she reached for countless times a day, the same hand that ran through her hair, cupped her cheek, loved her, protected her. She blinked back tears. “I have one of these,” she admitted. “My parents were still alive for my first Christmas. My mom made it. My aunts kept it and put it on their tree every year.”

“I’m glad that perfect hand of yours is preserved,” Nick said with his own glint in his eye. Sabrina looked at him.

“You should put these on the tree,” she decided. “I’ll help you, if you need it, but I think you should do it.”

Carefully, slowly, Nick stood and navigated to the Christmas tree. Sabrina handed him his kindergarten ornament and he placed it gingerly. It was more sturdy than the rest of the ornaments, made from wood and lightweight. Sabrina didn’t bother to further secure it. It wouldn’t break. She passed him the salt ornament. Because it was what she wanted, he placed it in a prominent place on the tree. Sabrina wrapped the hook around the tree a little tighter, then slipped an arm around Nick’s waist. She leaned into his good side. He looped an arm around her, his crutch abandoned in favor of allowing her to support him.

“Perfect,” she declared. Nick kissed the top of her head.

“Perfect,” he agreed. But he wasn’t talking about the tree. He held her a little tighter. “Next year, let’s do this properly.”

“Properly?” Sabrina asked, eyes on him.

“When I was a kid, I really wanted to go to a Christmas tree farm and cut down our own tree,” he confessed. “Nonna and Nonno thought that was absurd. They put up an artificial tree every year and that was that.”

For what felt like the umpteenth time that day, Sabrina beamed at him.

“I’d love that,” she nodded. “This is the first year I bought one already cut.”

Nick kissed her temple.

“I love you,” he said. “For so many reasons, but right now, for this.” He nodded towards the Christmas tree. “It’s been years since I even thought about the holidays past picking up a trinket for my Nonna. It’s nice, having you, a Christmas tree, something to look forward to.”

Sabrina turned to him. She cupped his cheek and just looked at him for a moment before a soft smile formed on her lips.

“As thankful as I am that you’re alive and well, I really hate that I can’t throw my arms around you and hug you hard right now.”

“Would you settle for a kiss?” Nick asked.

“Forever,” Sabrina confirmed.

His lips met hers.

The Christmas lights sparkled behind them.

It was perfect.

* * *

“I don’t know how I keep getting wrapped into you and Sabrina’s brilliant ideas.”

Nick looked at Ambrose with a raised eyebrow.

“You’re doing absolutely nothing right now.”

Ambrose looked back at him.

“Likewise, Detective.”

“I have an excuse,” Nick reminded him. “What’s yours?”

“Someone has to direct this ship.”

“That’s my job,” Nick said. “This is my house and I called and asked for some assistance to do what I currently cannot.”

“And I came,” Ambrose nodded. “With backup.” He pointed to the roof of Nick’s house, where Spriggs and Craig were busy hanging Christmas lights from the gutter. “They’re doing a great job.”

Nick just grinned and shook his head.

“Sabrina will love this,” he said with certainty. “She’s been showing up with something else Christmas-y nearly every evening this week.”

He almost looked forward to it. He loved the moment she came home from work and greeted him with a kiss. It had been an added piece of fun to see her produce a Christmas wreath, garland for the fireplace, an advent calendar, whatever else she found while wandering Greendale for news stories. Yesterday, it had been two potted evergreens for either side of the front porch steps. She had strung them with lights and Nick had been inspired.

“She loves the holidays,” Ambrose said. “You saw how big and over the top her birthday was. She wasn’t even in the spirit this year, what with everything going on, so that was a small gathering, compared to what she’s capable of. You’re in for it, Scratch. Christmas, birthdays, the Fourth of July… If there’s a holiday, she’s going to celebrate it. She’s like Hilda in that manner.”

Nick didn’t reply. He knew Sabrina liked to celebrate. He knew, too, that in the few months they had been together, the holidays - Halloween, her birthday, Thanksgiving - had been marred by death, mystery, and danger. She didn’t have those things to worry about now. He may have been slow to come around for Christmas, but putting up the tree had changed everything. He wanted this for her. He wanted her to celebrate.

It was nearly dark when Sabrina’s car appeared at his curb. Nick smiled brightly from his position on the porch and waited for her to get out of the car. Dublin trotted across the yard to greet her.

“What are you doing outside?” Sabrina asked him as she paused to give Dublin a hello pat. Dublin let out an excited bark and started to run around the yard, making Sabrina laugh. Nick smiled bigger.

“Stay right there,” he answered. Sabrina raised an eyebrow but did as she asked. Nick reached inside the front door and flipped the light switch, eyes on Sabrina as she was flooded in light. She gasped.

“Nick!”

He ever so carefully navigated down the porch stairs as she tried her best to take in every detail of the scene before her. The house had been outlined in white lights, artfully tacked along the roof, the porch railings. Icicle lights hung from the gutter. The shrubbery around the porch was wound in multicolored lights, the two little trees she had shown up with the day before twinkling.

“I thought we could use a little more light out here,” Nick said as he crutched towards her. Sabrina’s eyes were full of unshed tears when she finally pulled them away from the lights.

“How did you…?” She was at a loss for words.

“I called Ambrose and asked him to help me out,” Nick admitted as Sabrina’s arms went around his waist. “He brought Spriggs and Craig over and they did all of this while you were at work.” He let his crutch fall to the ground so Sabrina could curl into his right side and he could put an arm around her. “I directed things from the ground.”

“I… This is perfect, Nick.” She nuzzled still closer. He was cold. She could tell he had been outside for a long time. She would lecture him later on how he had once more pushed himself too hard - he had been incredibly sore the day after their Christmas tree excursion - but for now, she just wanted to be close to him. “I can’t believe you did this.”

“Haven’t we established that I’d do anything for you?” he asked. Sabrina could only kiss him in response. When she pulled away, she rested her head on his shoulder, his arm still around her.

“It’s just - so beautiful. And it's supposed to snow tonight. I love how Christmas lights look covered in snow. They shine through it, make it look like its glowing.”

Nick smiled softly. The only glow he was concerned about was the one coming from the girl his arm was wrapped around. He wished for the umpteenth time that he could hold her properly.

“You’ve been through a lot these last few months,” he said. “We both have. I know you like to celebrate things big and over-the-top. There wasn’t much to celebrate over Halloween, your birthday, Thanksgiving. Christmas… Christmas is going to be different.”

“I love you, Nick,” Sabrina replied. “I love you so much.”

“I love you.” He pressed a kiss to her hair. “More than I ever thought possible.”

They stayed like that for another couple of minutes before Sabrina reluctantly pulled away. She was uncomfortably cold now and Nick must have been frozen.

“Let’s go inside, warm up.” She retrieved his crutch and he tucked it under his arm. She walked alongside him as he slowly made his way back to the house. A thought occurred to her. “Scratch, am I supposed to believe that you stood out here and only observed, didn’t help at all?”

“I might have had a hand in the shrubbery,” he confessed. “Literally just a hand. It was all I could do, but I wanted to contribute somehow.” Sabrina rolled her eyes fondly. She didn’t bother fussing at him for not obeying doctor’s orders. It was a lost cause. “And if Ambrose tries to take credit for anything, he’s a liar. I don’t think he so much as touched a box of Christmas lights.”

Sabrina laughed.

“That sounds accurate,” she agreed. She loved the friendship Nick and Ambrose had. It was good for both of them. She stayed close as Nick navigated the steps. He had gotten much better - and even used his booted foot against her wishes - compared to how things had gone the day he came home from the hospital, but she was still cautious. She didn’t offer her help however. “Dublin!” she called. “Heir!”

Dublin dutifully left the spot of yard she had been sniffing and came along with Sabrina and Nick.

“I took care of dinner,” Nick told her. “I placed an order for us from Cee’s. I got you a cheeseburger and fries - the Spellman special as Cee calls it. It should be here soon.”

“Dr. Cerberus doesn’t deliver,” Sabrina said suspiciously.

“It does when your girlfriend’s aunt is sleeping with the owner,” Nick countered with a glint in his eye. Sabrina just smiled and shook her head. She was proud of Nick for being more open to not only accepting help while he was limited in what he could do for himself, but asking for it when he needed it.

“Looks like you’ve covered all the bases then.” She discarded her bag, shrugged out of her coat, then helped Nick remove his. Together, they went to the living room. Sabrina made to fall onto the couch, but Nick stopped at the Christmas tree. “Nick?”

“Come over here,” he jerked his head, indicating she should join him.

“Why?” she wondered, even as she stood and crossed the small room to him.

“I added something to the tree today.”

Sabrina looked. It only took her a moment to find the addition.

“Nick!” There, right next to his salt handprint, was hers. “How did you…”

“I appealed to Hilda,” he told her. “I thought it might be nice, to have your handprint next to mine.” He smiled at her, that sweet, sheepish grin she loved so much. “I like to hold your hand, figured it may as well be on the tree, too.”

Happy tears filled her eyes.

“Scratch,” she shook her head as she threaded her arm around his waist, “you are something else.”

“Trust me,” he pressed his lips into her hair, “you’re the one in this relationship that is something else entirely - something better than anything else I’ve experienced on this planet.”

Sabrina turned into him, both arms around his waist. His crutch clattered to the ground once more as he wrapped his one good arm around her again.

“We’ll make salt ornaments with our own kids,” she said into his chest.

“It’s a promise,” he nodded. He kissed her, long and slow and sweet. “I love you, Sabrina.”

“I love you, Nick.” She pecked his lips again. “More than you will ever know.”

She retrieved his crutch for him, then the pair took up their usual spots on the couch. Dublin slipped into the room, always their shadow. The only light came from the Christmas tree. “I have an idea for how we can pass the time until the food gets here.”

“I’ve got one, too,” Nick countered with a suggestive raise of his eyebrows. “Want to hear it?” Sabrina laughed.

“No sex,” she told him. “Not yet. It’s only been three weeks since you got out of the hospital.” She ran her hands down his chest, noted that he didn’t wince the way he would have even a few days ago, the bruises starting to fade, the wounds from both bullets and surgery beginning to truly heal. “But… We can make out.”

“They do say compromise is part of a relationship,” Nick mused. “Get over here, Spellman.”

* * *

Sabrina awoke to fingers dancing through her hair.

“Hmmm,” she hummed. She was content, her head on Nick’s chest, the blankets and his warm body cocooning her just so. She saw no need to wake up.

“Good morning, beautiful.” She smiled a bit, her eyes still closed. She loved how his voice was always a bit raspy first thing in the morning. “Merry Christmas.”

She opened her eyes and lifted her head just enough to see his eyes.

“Merry Christmas, Scratch,” she replied through her drowsy haze. “What time is it?”

“No idea,” he admitted. “Early, but not too early.”

“We don’t have to get out of bed anyway.” She laid back down. He chuckled and resumed playing with her hair.

“And here I thought you would bolt out of bed at the first mention of Christmas.”

“Someday, we’ll have kids to wake us up at the crack of dawn on Christmas morning. Let’s sleep in while we can.”

“I won’t argue with that.” He really could use a painkiller. He had had the surgery to repair his foot a few days ago, and it had been the pulse of pain that woke him up. But as much as he wanted to take the maximum amount of ibuprofen he could take, he couldn’t quite bring himself to break the comfort of the moment. “Let’s stay right here for a bit.”

Sabrina returned her head to his chest and closed her eyes. She hovered somewhere between sleep and awake. Nick’s fingers had stopped working through her hair, but his arm had settled around her. She moved her hand across his chest in an absentminded sort of way.

She bolted upright.

“Nicholas Scratch!”

“Ow!” he groaned, her sudden movement jarring both his shoulder and his foot. “What the hell Sabrina? You just used my chest as a launching pad. You know my shoulder still hurts.”

“Does it?” she asked with absolutely no sympathy in her tone. “Is that why your sling is nowhere to be found?”

Nick’s eyes widened in realization.

“Oh.”

“Oh?” Sabrina repeated. “That’s what you have to say for yourself?”

“I took it off last night to take a shower,” he admitted. “You were already asleep when I got out, so I just - left it off.”

It was hard to put on by himself, but not impossible. He had made the decision not to put it back on without much thought, happy for the freedom.

“Where is it?” she asked, tossing the covers back, all thoughts of sleeping in forgotten. “Where did you put it, Scratch? You know you’re not supposed to have that thing off. You’re not even supposed to take it off to shower.”

“It’s somewhere between here and the bathroom,” he pushed himself upright using his good arm. “And we’ve had the argument about the shower and the sling. I won that one and I’m not forfeiting my victory.”

His doctor had waffled about whether he could remove the sling to shower two weeks after his shoulder was surgical repaired and his life saved, but Nick had managed to convince him it would be a good thing - he could shower instead of the awkward sponge bath he - or Sabrina - had been giving himself, clean the surgical site, and allow it just a bit of freedom for a few minutes. It had been Sabrina that fought back and didn’t want him to jeopardize his healing. Whether he had convinced her to let him free his arm to shower or she had relented on the fact that he was going to do it anyway, he didn’t know. He chose to believe he had won the argument regardless.

“You’re too damned stubborn, Scratch,” she continued, ignoring him. “It hasn’t even been a month…”

“We’re like, three days from it being a month,” he interjected. “Let’s round up for the sake of ease.”

She shot him a look as she searched the room.

“You’re never going to heal if you don’t start listening to the doctor, Nick. You could have hurt yourself, sleeping without it…” She picked up the button down shirt he had worn to her aunts’ for Christmas Eve dinner the night before. “And the hamper is in the bathroom. Would it have killed you to put your clothes in it when you took them off last night? I mean, honestly.”

“I’m healing just fine,” he reminded her. “Excellent progress reports from the ortho surgeon.”

“I’m telling him you took your sling off overnight.”

“Go for it,” Nick replied. “I’ll tell him I survived the night.”

“You might not survive the morning if you keep up the smart remarks,” she retorted, snatching his jeans from the floor. He looked on in amusement as she left the room for the bathroom across the hall, her arms full of his dirty clothes. He loved when she got this riled up over something minor, found amusement in poking her along, just a little.

“I think my wallet is still in my jeans pocket,” he called out. A few moments later, his wallet came flying through the door. It landed on the bed. Dublin, who had been lying contently in her dog bed in the corner, finally stood to survey the chaos around her. Nick chuckled. “Thank you!”

Sabrina looked less than amused when she returned a minute later, his sling in hand.

“Wet towels on the floor, Scratch?”

“I only have one working arm,” he reminded her. The look she gave him was deadly. He decided it was time to start playing nice. He gave her a guilty sort of smile. “Help me back into my sling?”

Sabrina sighed out her frustration and came to him.

“You’re stubborn,” she said for the second time. “I know you hate being in this thing, but you have to heal, Nick. And heal correctly.”

“It’s hard, Sabrina,” he admitted. “I know it’s for my own good, but I haven’t been able to use my arm in a month. All the day-to-day stuff I can’t do is tough enough to deal with, but I can’t put my arms around you and that’s next to impossible to cope with at this point.”

Sabrina softened towards him.

“Oh, Nick,” she sighed. “I know it’s hard. This isn’t forever though. It’s a couple of months. And you're nearly halfway through.”

“I know,” he nodded. “But after everything we’ve been through, after the fear of knowing Harvey wanted to kill you, I need to hold you, Sabrina. I haven’t been able to put my arms around you since the morning of the day you figured out Harvey was behind the murders. It’s not enough for me, putting a single arm around you. I nearly lost you. One armed hugs feel half-hearted and I’m nothing if not wholeheartedly in love with you.”

Any remaining annoyance Sabrina held within her left. She had figured out early in their relationship that Nick needed physical touch. It calmed him, to be able to hold her hand, put his arms around her. She knew it bothered him that he couldn’t hug her or hold her properly right now, but it was deeper than that. It was an actual need for him to be able to touch her, even just casual brushes of his fingers against her back when he passed her in the kitchen, to show affection, to show that he cared. That had been largely taken away from him for the moment.

“When this sling comes of - for good - I’ll be right there, ready for you to wrap your arms around me,” she promised him. “I want to be in your arms properly as much as you want me to be there. Think of it this way - the better you follow the doctor’s orders, the more likely you are to get out of that thing sooner rather than later.”

“You’ll have to cancel your whole day that day,” Nick informed her. “I’m not going to let you go.”

“Promise?” she asked

“I swear it,” Nick agreed. “But you know, there are other things we could do that would allow me to show you how much I love you…” The fingertips of his good arm ran up her thigh. “Things that would make this a truly merry Christmas…”

“Your charm is almost working,” she told him. “But not quite.”

He groaned.

“Sabrina…”

“You’re in a sling,” she reminded him. “Your ribs… your foot…”

“I want you,” he nearly whined “You’re killing me with all of this shutting me down you’re doing. And don’t use my ribs as an excuse anymore. It’s been a month. They’re basically healed.” Sabrina considered him. He gave her his best puppy dog expression, half begging her, half seducing her.

“No sex,” Sabrina said sternly. “But…”

“This sounds promising…”

“Lay back,” she directed. Nick was quick to do as instructed. She laid down beside him, on his good side, and her hand started trailing along his bare chest. “The second you show any sign of discomfort, this ends.”

Nick’s body was already responding to her soft touch. He was starved for the physical part of their relationship, eager to have her in any way she would allow. She watched him for any sign of discomfort as her hand slipped into his boxers.

“Thank God,” he breathed as her hand wrapped around him.

“Happy?” she asked with a smirk.

“It’s not being inside of you,” he said as her hand began to slide over him. “But I’m in no position to be picky.”

“You’re not,” Sabrina agreed with a hint of amusement. “This is basically a special holiday treat.

His chuckle turned into a moan as she added a little pressure. She leaned up and kissed his cheek, then moved down his body. Her hand left him, but just to pull down the Christmas boxers she had insisted he had to wear the night before. She replaced her hand with her mouth. Nick swore.

She was masterful, the way she worked him with both her mouth and her hand. He had buried his hand right in her hair. His shoulder panged, but he didn’t care. It had been more than a month since they had done more than makeout and he was utterly eager for it.

“Sabrina,” he breathed. “I’m…”

She didn’t stop her ministrations. When he was finished, she sat up with a satisfied smirk. His chest rose and fell heavily and he had forgotten all about how bad his foot had been hurting when he woke up. He didn’t care that his ribs were twinging or his shoulder growing angrier by the minute.

“How are you doing, Scratch?” she asked, surveying him.

“Fantastic,” he breathed. “You’re wicked, Spellman.”

“I thought you deserved that,” she said as she laid back down beside him. “It’s been a rough month.” He lifted his head up so he could kiss her. “But to be clear, you did not get that for good behavior.”

Nick chuckled.

“Duly noted.” His fingers trailed up her thigh. She had slept in a Christmas-themed sleepshirt and he liked it. “Your turn.”

“Nick…,” she shook her head. “You don’t have to…”

“Oh, I want to,” he assured her. He thought fast about how he could show her the same appreciation. He kissed her hair, then forced himself upright. He mentally told his throbbing foot and aching shoulder to wait their turn for attention. He stood and limped around to her side of the bed. He perched on the edge and grinned at her. “You’re beautiful, Spellman, you know that?

“What are you up to, Scratch?” she asked, eyes twinkling as his hand slid up her thigh and under her nightshirt.

“What did you call it?” he asked. A ‘special holiday treat’ I think?”

She hadn’t realized how much she missed sex until his fingers were working their magic. He was right in saying it wasn’t quite the same. She wanted him fully. But it was still intimate, still good. Still so so good.

Nick wanted more. He wanted to put his body over hers, kiss her, touch her while he pressed into her. But he couldn’t, not with his injuries. So he settled for watching her unravel as he pleasured her the only way he could right then. Watching her unravel was the only gift he wanted.

“Okay,” she breathed when she came down, “you need to heal faster. I need more of that.”

Nick chuckled. He used his hand to press against her, indicating he wanted to lay back down. She moved over to give him room on the bed.

“We could do more if you would allow it,” he reminded her. “You could sit in my lap…”

“We already did more than we should have,” she informed him. “You’re going to have to wait for anything more.” She lifted herself up onto her elbow. “But it was nice,” she confessed. “To be close like that again.”

“It was more than nice,” Nick corrected. “Both of us are too talented to call that nice.”

Sabrina laughed. She loved Nick’s confidence in bed. He chuckled and tried to cover up the wince from pain, but Sabrina saw it anyway.

“Pain medicine?” she asked.

“Regrettably,” Nick confirmed. “My foot woke me up.”

“You should have said something…”

“A lot happened in a very short amount of time,” he reminded her. “We were all cozy, talking about sleeping in… Then I was getting yelled at about shoulder slings and clothes on the floor… And then you were doing things…” Sabrina rolled her eyes although she was smiling and pushed herself out of bed.

“I’m going to get you pain medicine,” she told him. “I need to let Dublin out, then I’ll start some coffee, make breakfast…”

“I’ll let Dublin out,” Nick said, working to push himself up as well. He hated that she was having to bear so much of the load for the moment.

“I can…”

“Sabrina, I can open a door,” he told her gently but with no room for argument. She gave him a relenting smile and nodded.

“Okay,” she agreed. “I’ll start Christmas breakfast. Your pain meds will be by the coffee pot after you let Dublin out.” She leaned over and kissed him. “I love you, Scratch.”

“I love you,” he replied. He tugged her hand to bring her back for another kiss. “Merry Christmas, Sabrina.” She smiled that smile of hers that he knew now was only for him.

“Merry Christmas, Nick.”

She left him, trusting him to get to his feet and follow. He slowly stood and managed to fumble his way into a pair of sweatpants. He found his crutch, called for Dublin, and exited the room.

It was Christmas.

The first Christmas he had truly celebrated since college.

He would have breakfast with Sabrina, exchange gifts, eventually get dressed and go visit Ambrose and Prudence to take the twins their gifts and see what they found under the Christmas tree that morning. There would be another meal at the Spellmans, cooked by Hilda and this one meant just for family as opposed to last night’s affair that had included half of Greendale. A family that included him.

He was sure of two things as he opened the door to a blast of cold air.

He should have thought to put on a shirt.

And by next Christmas, the woman who just dropped something in the kitchen and cursed about it would be his wife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Le sigh. I love Christmas. I love these two. I love writing. If y'all only knew how much I actually write... And I've got a whole week ahead of me of 'funemployment' - who knows what I might churn out with no real job to interrupt my time with Word and Final Draft? 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and being so supportive. I'm feeling super nostalgic now that we know Part 4 will be it for this ride. I've decided to look at it like this: At least it's ending before it can get completely wrecked like Riverdale? I hope? We've got a few months to wait to find out. 
> 
> Let me know your thoughts on this one! XOXO


	8. Marry Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There were several requests for a proposal - so here you go. <3

Nick had been to the mortuary countless times, but he couldn’t recall a time he had been this nervous as he walked up the path to the old Victorian. Not even when he and Ambrose showed up to talk to Sabrina after she found out the serial killer was after her did his stomach churn like this. He had been on a mission that day, determined to keep her from doing anything irrational. He had a mission today too, one that in some ways felt even riskier. He was still climbing the porch steps when the door swung open.

“There he is!” Nick glared at Ambrose. “Don’t look at me like that, Scratch. You’re about to make a very big ask of me and my aunts. You want me on your side.”

“I’m nervous,” he stated without humor. “You’re not helping.”

“You’ll take three bullets to the chest without hesitation, but asking my aunts’ for their niece’s hand in marriage…”

“Sabrina’s right,” Nick decided. “You are the worst.”

Ambrose chuckled and slapped Nick on the shoulder.

“Come inside, Scratch. Don’t be nervous. You know damned well they’re going to agree.”

“You don’t know that,” Nick countered as he followed Ambrose into the house. “Between giving Zelda a ticket and her belief that I want to be mayor, she might tell me no just for spite.”

“I don’t know where Zelda got the idea you want to be mayor,” Ambrose said.

“Apparently she overheard someone suggest I’d make a good candidate at the bakery last week,” Nick said. “She decided that must mean I planned to run against her. I still don’t think she believes I have no intention of doing so.”

“You would utterly loathe that job,” Ambrose accurately stated. Nick nodded his agreement.

“I’d be more worried about Sabrina challenging her seat as mayor than me.” Ambrose nodded his agreement. Sabrina would do it just for spite. “I just need Zelda to say yes.”

“I’m saying yes,” Ambrose shrugged. “Hilda will be a yes. So two out of three. Majority rules.”

“Seriously not helpful,” Nick shook his head. They all knew Zelda overruled them all. “Do they know why I’m here, by the way?”

“Technically? No. I just said ‘Nick’s coming over for lunch.’ You’re welcome, by the way. Hilda made chicken salad on croissants with homemade fries on the side. She even used that parsley seasoning I like that she never brings out when it's just us…” Nick rolled his eyes. “But let’s be clear here, Nicholas. They are entirely suspicious. We’re friends, but you’re not coming over to dine with me. I don’t even live here anymore, technically.”

He had moved in with Prudence recently to help her raise Blackwood’s twins.

“Nicholas?” came Hilda’s voice. “Is that you?” She appeared in the hallway, removing her apron. “Welcome, love! I made your favorite peach pound cake for dessert…”

“Oh, she knows,” Ambrose muttered. Nick gave him another dirty look before he turned to Hilda with a smile and tried to hide his nerves.

“That sounds amazing,” he said to her. “Thank you, Hilda.”

“Of course, dear!” She enveloped him in a big hug that he awkwardly returned.

She definitely knew.

“Is Nicholas finally here?” Zelda breezed into the entry. Nick fought the urge to make a face at her ‘already here’ comment. He was exactly on time. “Ah, good. Welcome, Nicholas. Shall we eat?”

She turned on her heel and walked towards the kitchen.

“Come along, boys,” Hilda encouraged, following in Zelda’s wake.

“Like night and day, the pair of them,” Ambrose observed.

“Yin and yang,” Nick agreed.

“Where is Sabrina?” Zelda asked casually as they all sat down. “Not that we aren’t happy to see you, of course, but it’s unusual for you to be here without our niece.”

“He’s my friend too,” Ambrose piped up, slightly offended that his aunts didn’t think Nick might want to hang out with him.

“Of course,” Zelda said coolly.

“And you wonder why we prefer Hilda,” Ambrose mumbled although not loud enough for Zelda to hear.

“Sabrina is spending the day with Roz and Theo,” Nick shared. It was part of the reason he had asked Ambrose to help him orchestrate this lunch - he wouldn’t have to worry about Sabrina thwarting his plans. “They went into the city to shop, I think.”

“Good for them,” Hilda approved. “It’s nice to see Sabrina and Roz as friends again.” She placed a plate in front of Nick. “Eat up, love. I’ll send some home with you as well - Sabrina loves this chicken salad.”

Lunch passed pleasantly enough. By the time they were finished with the pound cake and vanilla ice cream - also homemade, Nick had grown to expect nothing less from Hilda - he cleared his throat and braced himself.

“Hilda, Zelda, I actually asked Ambrose for his help in making this lunch happen,” he began. He watched the sisters try and fail to hide the knowing look that passed between them. He was a detective and a damned good one at that. He didn’t miss much. “I recognize that I only met Sabrina eight months ago, but I think it suffices to say that she and I have been through a lot.”

“That would be one way to put it,” Hilda agreed.

“I love her,” Nick continued.

“Enough to take three bullets for her,” Ambrose added. Nick gave him yet another look. Ambrose shrugged. “Just wanted to remind them.”

“We’re well aware that Nicholas risked his life for Sabrina,” Zelda stated, eyes on Nick as she waited for him to get to the point. “Go on, Nicholas.”

“I want to marry her.” Zelda fought the grin her lips wanted to form while Hilda broke into a smile brighter than the sun. “I love her, and I promise I will take care of her, treat her well, provide for her, even though I know she’s more than capable of taking care of herself. I know, too, that the three of you are the most important people in her life, and so I’m here to ask you, each of you, for her hand in marriage.”

The quiet that followed felt like an eternity, but was only mere moments.

“I could think of no better man to become my niece’s husband,” Zelda broke the silence, uncharacteristically soft spoken. “You of course have our permission.”

“Unequivocally,” Hilda agreed. “We already love you like you’re a part of this family, Nicholas.”

“I’ve already given my permission, but I agree with Hilda,” Ambrose said, serious for the first time since Nick’s arrival. “You’re already a part of this family and I think I speak for all of us when I say there is no doubt that you will, in fact, love, care, and provide for Sabrina.”

“Thank you,” Nick said with a relieved nod that had nothing on the relief he felt in the very pit of his stomach that they had agreed. “She’s everything to me. I can promise you all that I’ll be a good husband to her.”

“Do you have a ring yet?” Hilda asked.

“I do,” Nick confirmed. “I didn’t bring it with me - I didn’t want to risk pulling it out of hiding and not getting it back into its spot before Sabrina got home - but it was my mother’s ring. When I look at it, I see Sabrina. I think she’ll love it.”

Hilda’s hand flew to her heart as she swooned.

“Sentimental,” Zelda nodded, back to her serious demeanor. “I approve.”

“When are you going to propose?” Hilda asked. “Any plans?” She was positively glowing. “Can we help? I can cook…”

“Soon,” Nick said. “I don’t have any plans yet - I’m thinking about it. But if I need help, I’ll let you know.”

He had no intentions of bringing the Spellmans into whatever proposal plan he came up with. He wanted their permission, but he wanted the proposal to be solely him. He was going to ask the woman he loved to spend the rest of her life with him. He wanted - needed - to do this himself.

He spent another hour with the Spellmans, just to be polite, before taking his leave, laden with leftover chicken salad and pound cake. When he was safely out the door. Hilda, Zelda, and Ambrose looked at one another.

“Shall I get the champagne?” Zelda asked, moving for the fridge where she had already put a bottle to chill.

“I’ll get the glasses,” Hilda agreed. Ambrose clapped his hands together.

“Another man in this family!” he announced. “Thank God!” He frowned then. “Why are we popping the champagne after Nicholas left? Shouldn’t we have popped the cork when he was here?”

“We’ll celebrate with him when he’s put that ring on Sabrina’s finger,” Zelda announced. “This is for us. We raised that girl and heaven knows she put us through the ringer on occasion. We got her to a place where she’s marrying a good, decent man. Our job is done.”

“Cheers to that,” Hilda said as she placed three glasses on the table.

“Frankly, you’re only getting a glass because you’re here and you’ll pout if we throw you out,” Zelda told Ambrose. She popped the cork as though to emphasize her point. “You weren’t on the front lines of raising that girl.”

“Like hell I wasn’t,” Ambrose scoffed. “You two have no idea how much trouble I got her out of.”

“Nor how much trouble you got into with her alongside of you,” Zelda accurately stated. She poured the champagne. Hilda passed Ambrose a glass. Zelda placed the bottle aside and held up her flute. “To marrying off Sabrina.”

“To welcoming Nicholas into the family,” HIlda added.

“To being here to drink the champagne,” Ambrose said with a note of bitterness.

The Spellmans clinked their glasses.

Sabrina was getting married.

There was plenty to celebrate.

* * *

Nick spied Zelda before Sabrina did. He internally groaned. It had been a week and a half since he asked for permission to marry Sabrina and he hadn’t proposed yet. Zelda and Hilda were impatient and Zelda in particular was practically threatening him into proposing. As much as he wanted to steer Sabrina away before she spotted her aunt, he knew he couldn’t. He had already made eye contact with Zelda and he would never hear the end of it if he blatantly avoided her.

“Sabrina, Nicholas,” she greeted. “How nice to run into the pair of you.”

“Hi, Aunt Zelda,” Sabrina greeted.

“Mayor Spellman,” Nick added with a polite nod, purposefully using her title. She gave him a look that said she didn’t approve of his slight of tongue.

“It’s been a few days since I saw the pair of you,” Zelda continued. “Anything exciting happen since I last saw you?” Nick glared.

“I bought a new coffee maker,” Sabrina shrugged, oblivious to the tension developing between Nick and Zelda. “Nick hates it.”

“It’s too fancy,” he said. “It’s got too many buttons.”

“It’s not too fancy. You’re just intimidated by it.”

“A coffee maker only needs to make coffee,” Nick stated. “Not espresso and iced coffee and steamed milk and hot water…”

“Bickering like an old married couple,” Zelda observed. Nick willed a hole to open up and swallow Zelda whole.

“Nick is stubborn about his coffee,” Sabrina stated.

“Good luck frothing your almond milk,” Nick countered. Zelda snorted to hide her laugh. Nick had a point. Even as Sabrina glared at him, he pulled her into his side and kissed her hair. She leaned into him, both of them letting one another know their bickering was good natured. “What brings you to the night market?” Nick asked Zelda as he tried to steer the conversation away from marriage. He wouldn’t put it past Zelda Spellman to propose for him. Zelda narrowed her eyes at him.

“What are you implying, Detective Scratch?”

Nick frowned.

“Nothing? I was just asking a question…”

Sabrina, however, knew exactly where Zelda’s mind was.

“I saw the town treasurer down by the stand selling homemade fudge,” she supplied. Zelda drew herself up to her full height. “Might you want to go say hello?”

“I’m here as the mayor to show support for my community,” she informed them. “One does not need a motive to attend our weekly night market.” She looked past Sabrina and acted as though she spied someone she knew. “If you’ll excuse me, I have constituents to greet.”

She breezed past them. Sabrina chuckled while Nick looked perplexed.

“I’ll never understand her,” he decided.

“She’s having an affair with the treasurer,” Sabrina told him. “She’ll deny it, but I’m certain of it.”

“Is it an affair?” Nick wondered. “Neither of them are married.”

“It’s more scandalous if you call it an affair,” Sabrina explained. Nick shrugged and took her hand.

“It’s an affair then,” he said, opting out of discussing Zelda’s love life. He was uninterested for one, but he was more interested in spending the evening with Sabrina at Greendale’s weekly nighttime farmer’s market. “What are we having for dinner, Spellman? I’m starving.”

“Barbecue?” she suggested.

“You read my mind.”

He led her towards a stand selling barbecue, but his mind was elsewhere, as it often was these days. He wanted to propose. He wanted his mother’s ring on her finger. But every idea he had felt less than ideal. She was his heart and soul and he wanted to make sure she knew that when he asked her to be his wife.

“Nick?”

He brought his attention back to her.

“What?” He gave his head a bit of a shake. “Sorry. I was thinking about something from work.”

Sabrina looked suspicious, but didn’t comment. She trusted he would talk to her in his own time if something was going on. She had learned that about Nick - he needed to work through things on his own before he opened up to her.

“I asked if you wanted to get some bell peppers and fresh cheese for Friday night pizza night while we’re here.”

“For sure,” Nick nodded. “Let’s get some mushrooms, too.”

“Let’s eat first,” Sabrina decided. “Then we’ll shop.”

“Maybe we can get a simple coffee maker while we’re at it,” he mentioned. Sabrina rolled her eyes, making him laugh. He squeezed her hand. “I love you, Spellman. I just don’t like your coffee maker.”

“I love you, and it will grow on you,” she countered.

He joined her to stand in line, smiling to himself. He would figure out her fancy coffee maker eventually. Or he might go out and buy a cheap simple one and put it on the counter next to it, just to get a rise out of her. All that really mattered to him was that she said yes to his proposal.

If he ever came up with a way to propose.

* * *

Dublin lifted her head from the couch, ears perked. Sabrina grinned.

“Nick’s home, huh?” she asked.

Dublin hopped off the sofa and trotted out of the room, just as the telltale sound of Nick’s vehicle pulling to the curb met her ears. It amused her every single time, how Dublin heard his vehicle well before she did.

She saved the article she was working on and closed her laptop. It was Friday evening and they had a strict no work policy on Fridays. It was pizza night, their night. Neither of them were willing to sacrifice it. She made it to the hallway just as Nick greeted Dublin.

“It’s pouring,” she observed. Nick’s rain jacket was dripping and she could hear the rain pounding on the sidewalk. “It wasn’t that bad when I took Dublin out a half hour ago.”

“It started this up about five minutes ago,” Nick said. He closed the front door and worked to remove his Greendale PD rain jacket. “Sounds like it’s going to be like this most of the night.” He grinned at her. “Good thing we don’t have anywhere to be.”

He approached her and leaned in for a kiss.

“How was your day?” she asked when they pulled apart.

“A little on the boring side. Lots of trial prep. Hilda dropped off a box of cookies though, so it wasn’t a total loss.”

Sabrina let the mention of trial prep wash over her. Harvey’s upcoming trial took enough of her time as it was with the coverage for the newspaper and other news outlets asking her for interviews as his intended final victim. She wasn’t going to let it cast a shadow over her evening with Nick.

“Hilda spoils you all,” she said. Hilda tended to bring baked goods to the police department at least once a week, but her deliveries had increased in frequency as the trial approached. Sabrina assumed it was her way of coping.

“She does,” Nick agreed. “Those cookies were good enough to challenge your position as my favorite Spellman.”

“Oh really?”

“Really,” Nick nodded with absolute seriousness.

“Someone must have forgotten what they woke up to this morning.”

“No, they most certainly did not,” Nick shook his head. “I had a very good wakeup call.” He kissed her again. “Trust me, Spellman. Your place at the top of my list - Spellman or otherwise - is not in jeopardy even with Hilda’s baked goods.”

Never mind the fact that Hilda had nagged him about when he planned to propose. He still hadn’t settled on something that felt right.

“I started the sauce,” she announced as they made their way into the kitchen. “It’s just about ready. Your dough rose nicely as well.”

That was their routine now. He made the dough in the mornings before work and left it on the counter to rise. One of them would come by at some point a few hours later to put it in the fridge until that evening. Sabrina had been the one to stop in mid-morning this week.

“We’re getting really good at tag teaming pizza night, Spellman,” Nick observed.

“We really are,” she agreed.

Nick left her in the kitchen to go change out his work clothes. She poured them both a glass of wine and they sat in the kitchen for a bit, catching up about their day before they started the process of making their pizzas.

“You’re getting better at this, Spellman,” Nick said as he watched her shape her dough. It still took her a bit longer and she usually ended up with more air bubbles than not if he didn’t fix them for her, but he saw the improvement all the same.

“I’ve got a good teacher,” she said.

“You’ve got a fantastic teacher,” Nick corrected. Sabrina rolled her eyes fondly, making him chuckle. He watched her dough for a few moments before he decided it was time to intervene. “Let me help you.” He came behind her, just as he had on their first date, and she allowed him to help form her dough just so. “Better,” he approved. He kissed her hair before he let her go. “What are your toppings of choice tonight, Spellman?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’ve been thinking about this all day. I thought maybe I’d go simple - just pepperoni and cheese. But then I thought maybe spinach and feta would be good. I bought a pineapple yesterday too…” Nick made a face. “Pineapple goes just fine on pizza.”

“It doesn’t,” Nick shook his head. It was one of those things he liked to bring up just to annoy her. She liked ham and pineapple pizza. He thought it was ridiculous. “Pineapples belong on Hilda’s upside down cakes, not pizza.”

“Well, I’m not in the mood for it anyway,” she said, making him chuckle again as she effectively ended the argument. “What are you putting on yours?”

“I’ve also been thinking about this all day,” he said. “I made up my mind hours ago. Pepperoni, bacon, green peppers, and onions.”

“That does sound good,” Sabrina wavered. “Why is this so hard?”

“It wouldn’t be pizza night if you weren’t standing in the middle of the kitchen with your hands on your hips, debating on what toppings you want this week.”

Sabrina let her hands fall from her sides as though to prove a point. He chuckled. She did this every week and he found it to be one more thing he loved about her. She crossed the room and opened the fridge as though staring at its contents would help her decide.

_Now,_ Nick realized.

Now was the moment for him to propose.

In the house where they had their first date, the house that had become their home, that had seen them through many pizza nights and intimate moments and some hard, scary times. It didn’t have to be an extravagant, over-the-top proposal. That wasn’t them anyway. They simply loved each other beyond reason. Now, in their home, on pizza night, was the right time.

“I’ll be right back,” he told her, his mind made up. If she heard him, she didn’t reply.

He disappeared into their bedroom and opened the bottom drawer of his nightstand. Tucked in a far back corner was a pair of socks, hidden by a small stack of books. He removed the socks and unraveled the ball they were in. The ring box appeared. He took a deep breath as he removed the ring. He placed the box on Sabrina’s side of the bed should she need it later.

He felt strangely calm as he returned to the kitchen. She stood there, hands on her hips once more, flour coating the apron Hilda had given her that he thought she wore more for show than actual use, and he swore he fell more in love with her.

“I think I’ve made up my mind,” she declared without looking at him. “Pepperoni, arugula, and pine nuts.” She looked to him for his thoughts on the matter. She frowned, noting how he stood there with his hands in his pockets and a nervous expression. “Nick? Are you okay?”

“I love you.”

He took a few steps towards her. He had thought a lot about what he wanted to say when he proposed, but he hadn’t really settled on anything. All he could do was speak from his heart.

“I love you, too,” she said, confusion clear. “Nick, seriously, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he assured her. “I’m more than fine. And that’s because of you.” He came closer and took her hands in his. She looked bewildered. “I wasn’t planning to fall in love with you - or anyone else. After everything I’d been through before I moved here, I thought I’d be better off alone. But I was never given a choice when it came to you. I fell in love with you and that was that.”

“Nick…” Her eyes watered. She couldn’t pull her eyes away from his. Something in them was so sincere, so full of love. Still, she didn’t understand where this sudden overflow of emotion was coming from.

“We have been through absolute hell, but we made it through - together. And together is the only way I want to be for the rest of my life, if you’ll have me.” He took a deep breath and lowered himself to one knee. Sabrina’s eyes widened and her mouth formed a soft ‘oh!’ as she realized what was happening. “Sabrina Diana Spellman, will you marry me? Please?”

Sabrina gasped as tears filled her eyes.

“Nick!” She reached for him, “Yes! Of course!” She pulled him to his feet and threw her arms around him as he pulled her into his chest. He held her tight. She held him tighter as a few happy tears escaped. “Oh, Nick!”

She was shocked. She wanted to marry him. They had talked about marriage. It came up more often lately. Still, she had no idea he had any plans to propose. He had taken her completely by surprise.

“You said yes, right?” he asked, just to be sure as he held her tight, fighting back his own tears.

“Of course I said yes!” She pulled away only enough so she could look up at him, eyes shining. “You asked me to marry you.”

“I did,” Nick confirmed. “And you said yes.”

Sabrina kissed him with all she had. She was marrying him. He was going to be her husband, and she was going to be his wife, and as far as she was concerned, that was all that mattered.

“Your ring,” Nick said when they parted.

“What?” Sabrina asked, completely distracted by the idea of both marrying him and kissing him.

“Your ring,” Nick repeated. “I’m still holding it.”

“Oh!” Sabrina gasped. She had forgotten all about the diamond she had briefly glimpsed before hurling herself into his arms. “My ring! I get one of those!”

Nick chuckled at her excitement as he released Sabrina. He took her left hand in his and slipped the delicate diamond onto her finger. He had had it cleaned and sized and it fit perfectly. Sabrina stared at it with glittering eyes. He held her hand in his, eyes on it as well.

“It’s perfect,” she breathed. It was flawless, as far as she was concerned. A circle of small diamonds wrapped around her finger and a single solitaire diamond, perfectly sized for her, sat perched atop it. “Nick, it’s beautiful.”

“You like it?” he confirmed.

“I love it,” she nodded. “I love you.”

She kissed him again.

He deepened the kiss.

They made out like teenagers right in the middle of the kitchen. When they finally parted, breathing heavy, Nick rested his forehead against hers.

“I get to marry you,” he said in a tone of wonder.

“I get to marry you,” Sabrina countered with a bright smile. Nick pecked her lips again. She reached up and ran her hand through his curls. “That makes me really, really happy, Detective.”

“Likewise, Spellman.”

One more kiss.

Sabrina heard his stomach growl and was suddenly acutely aware of how hungry she was, too. She laughed a bit.

“Should we put these pizzas in the oven?” she proposed.

“We should,” Nick agreed. Pizza would be the perfect dinner tonight. He lifted her left hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it before he let it go. “I’m starving.”

They worked to finish off their pizzas and put them in the oven, trading soft brushes of their hands and lots of smiles. Sabrina felt like she was floating and Nick couldn’t quite believe the woman he loved had agreed to marry him. He was in a state of bliss as he fell to the couch, content to wait for the oven timer to ding. Sabrina, however, had other plans. She straddled his lap and leaned down to kiss him.

“Want to call your aunts?” he asked. “I asked them for their permission a couple of weeks ago and they’ve been pestering me ever since. I asked Ambrose, too, but he’s been more interested in watching the aunts torment me.”

“Sounds like Ambrose,” Sabrina quipped, her hand cupping his cheek. “We can tell them tomorrow.” She brushed her thumb across his cheek. “Tonight, I want to keep it between us, celebrate.”

“I like the sound of celebrating,” Nick hedged. Sabrina rocked her hips against his suggestively. “We’ve got pizza in the oven…”

“And plenty of time to wait for it to bake…” Her hand slipped under the hem of his t-shirt.

Nick lost himself in Sabrina. She was everywhere, filling all of his senses. He let his head fall back on the couch and just feel, his hands holding tight to her hips, hers braced against his chest as she moved. He could feel his release coming, knew she was close too by the way she felt around him.

The fire alarm blared.

Dublin leapt out of the chair she had curled up in and barked wildly.

“Shit!” Sabrina gasped, shocked back to reality. Neither of them had heard the kitchen timer ding. “The pizza!”

She sprang off of Nick and scrambled for her panties. NIck jumped to his feet and stumbled into his boxers as he rushed towards the kitchen. Smoke swirled from the oven. He threw it open, thought to grab a pot holder from nearby, and pulled the pizza stone from the oven. He turned the oven off and ordered Dublin to quiet down as Sabrina fanned the smoke away from the fire detector. It fell silent a few moments later. Nick opened the kitchen window to air out the smoke. For a moment, they just looked at each other.

“Oops,” Sabrina said to bring the moment back down to reality. Nick laughed, making her smile.

“How do you feel about pizza delivery?” he asked.

“Like we’re going to have to go pick it up because no one delivers pizza in this town, but I’m happy to call in our order.”

“That’s a plan then,” Nick agreed. His grin got bigger. “I don’t regret burning those pizzas.”

“I kinda do,” Sabrina said wryly. “I wasn’t finished.” Nick made a face.

“Thanks for the reminder,” he said. He hadn’t finished either, but the smoke alarm had effectively distracted him. “We’ll take care of that later.” He winked at her. Her cheeks flushed even as she rolled her eyes and shook her head with a grin.

Later, after takeout pizza and the cinnamon sticks Sabrina insisted they had to have since they were picking up pizza in the first place, they lay in bed side by side, sated and deliriously happy as Sabrina’s head rested on his bicep. Nick trailed his hand up and down Sabrina’s arm. She sighed contently, and lifted up her left hand to admire her ring in the dark.

“Still like it?” Nick wondered.

“It’s so perfect,” Sabrina sighed. “I’ve never really thought about what kind of ring I wanted, but this is it. This is the ring. You somehow knew exactly what I wanted, even if I didn’t.”

Nick took his hand in hers so he could look at the ring. He brushed his thumb over it.

“It was my mom’s,” he confessed.

A soft gasp emitted from Sabrina.

“Really?”

“It was my grandmother’s before that,” Nick continued. “She gave it to my dad to propose to my mom, said she wanted to keep it in the family. When my mom died, Nonna held onto the ring for me. I snagged it from her apartment when we were in the city to visit her before she passed away.”

“That’s why you got all weird when I was trying to unpack your bag when we got back from that trip,” Sabrina remembered.

Nick had still had his shoulder in a sling and his foot in a boot at the time. She hadn’t thought twice about unpacking his bag to toss his laundry in with hers. But he had gotten weird and insisted she leave it for later, then managed to distract her with sex as they were once again having it. When she had gone to unpack it later, he had already done it.

“Your first clue that something was up should have been the fact that I put my dirty laundry in the laundry,” Nick quipped. Sabrina laughed.

“True,” she agreed. She moved so she could rest her head on his chest, her favorite place to be. “I’ll make sure our little boy gets this ring to give to the love of his life one day,” she promised. Nick pressed a kiss to her hair, loving the idea of having a child with her.

“Thank you, Sabrina. For saying yes.”

“What else would I have said?” she wondered.

“You could have said no,” Nick said matter-of-factly. “I was pretty sure you wouldn’t, but the option was always there.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Sabrina shook her head. “I want nothing more than to marry you, Nicholas Scratch.”

“I obviously feel the same way,” Nick said as his hand worked through her hair. “I mean, I’m willingly marrying into the Spellman family.”

Sabrina laughed outright.

“Ambrose is going to be thrilled to no longer be the only male.”

“You and Hilda’s cooking make up for Mayor and Captain Spellman,” Nick said seriously. “So really, it’s a wash in the new relative department.”

Sabrina laughed again and Nick chuckled. She knew Ambrose was Nick’s closest friend outside of her and despite the antagonistic nature of his relationship with Zelda, there was a lot of mutual respect between the two.

Nick continued to move his hand up and down her back as sleep came for him. An overwhelming swarm of emotions swept through him. Love for the woman in his arms was most prevalent, but there was also relief, disbelief. They had been through hell and back right out of the gate and somehow, someway, they had made it. They had been tested. He had nearly lost his life to save hers. But they were there, together, happy. Getting married.

This, he realized, was what gratitude felt like.

He had no way of knowing Sabrina was thinking along the same lines.

She had fallen hard for the smooth talking detective. She thought she might have actually fallen for him the night four teenage girls had lost their lives in a car accident and he had pulled her into his arms when she started to cry in his office at two in the morning, just hours after the accident. She hadn’t realized it at the time, but it wasn’t long before she let go of any lingering fears about getting involved with someone after Harvey had cheated on her with her best friend and given Nick her heart.

The man holding her close, even as he started to drift off to sleep, had stopped at nothing to find who was killing Greendale’s citizens, even as he reeled from his own devastating loss. He had nearly lost his life in his effort to protect her. She wiggled just a little closer as she thought about those terrifying moments in which three solid shots from Harvey’s pistol had entered Nick’s chest. Two had been stopped by his bulletproof vest, leaving behind deep bruises and broken ribs. The third had ripped through his left shoulder, nicking his brachial artery and leaving him bleeding out. A surgeon had saved his life, but there had been a few hours in which she feared she was going to lose him.

And now she got to marry him.

The rain still pounded against the windows. Dublin slept soundly in her bed at the foot of theirs. It was cozy and safe and everything Sabrina had always hoped for when she dreamed about the man that would become her husband.

“Nick?” she said into the dark.

“Hmm?” he answered, his eyes closed, his hand slowing its motion as he drifted further and further into sleep. She took his other hand in hers and squeezed it three times.

_I love you._

As tired as he was, his lips still turned upwards into a smile.

He returned her squeezes with four of his own.

_I love you, too._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SWOON. 
> 
> I love writing these two in this universe. I really hope Nick got that coffeemaker figured out. We all know Detective Scratch REALLY needs the caffeine.


	9. The Appendectomy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little medical emergency. And talk of life insurance.

The house was dark and quiet.

Nick frowned.

Sabrina’s car was in the driveway and she hadn’t mentioned going anywhere after work. ‘Dark’ and ‘quiet’ weren’t words he typically associated with her when she was home. She made the place lively. He was used to coming home to the TV on or music playing in the kitchen. What really threw him though was the lack of Dublin greeting him at the door. She always greeted him with excitement. But then he heard her paws padding down the hallway.

“Hey girl,” he greeted as he tossed his keys aside. “Where’s Sabrina?” The dog pushed her nose into his hand and whined. Nick’s frown grew. She was acting weird. “What is it, Dublin?” Dublin turned and trotted in the direction of their bedroom. Nick followed.

“Sabrina?” He rounded the doorframe and found Sabrina in their bed, lights off, curled into a fetal position. “Sabrina!”

He rushed to her side. She moaned when he touched her. Her skin was hot to the touch.

“You’re burning up,” he observed. “What’s wrong?”

“My stomach hurts,” she managed. “Food poisoning I guess.”

Alarm bells went off in Nick’s head.

“Where does your stomach hurt?”

“Here.” Sabrina motioned to her belly button indicating all of it. “Here the most.” She placed her hand over her lower right abdomen.

“Nauseous?” he questioned.

“Yeah,” Sabrina admitted. She groaned and buried her face in her pillow as a fresh wave of nausea washed over her as though her body had decided to confirm the fact for her. “I was fine this morning.”

She had been a little queasy, but she had chalked it up to something she ate while out to dinner with Nick the night before. The nausea had grown worse as the day wore on and when she met Theo for lunch at the bakery - unable to eat anything herself - he had outright asked her if she was pregnant. Sabrina knew for sure that wasn’t the case. By mid-afternoon, the pain had settled in and rapidly grown worse. It was so bad now all she could do was curl up in bed and stay there.

“You’re going to the hospital,” Nick announced.

“No…”

“You have lost all right to protest,” he informed her. “I’m no doctor, but I have had basic medical training and I’m damned near certain your appendix needs to come out.”

Sabrina’s eyes flew open.

“No. It’s not that. I’m fine.” She struggled to sit up. “I’m fine. It’s just a stomach virus. A nasty one.” She was as white a ghost. The soft pink that usually colored her cheeks was nowhere to be seen.

“We can do this two ways,” Nick said. “You can come on your own terms or I can carry you out protesting. Either way, you’re going to the hospital before things get worse.”

She knew by both the set way of his body language and the amount of pain she was in that there would be no arguing with him.

“Compromise?” she suggested. She gasped as a fresh wave of pain hit her. Nick was at her side, rubbing her back and muttering soothing words in an instant. While the pain didn’t go away, it faded enough for her to regain her breath and continue her thought. “How about I go to the hospital willingly, but you help me out of here? I don’t know that I can walk on my own.”

“The pain is that bad?” Sabrina only nodded. Nick took over.

“Come on, Spellman. Hospital. Now.”

He got to his feet and made to scoop her into his arms.

“Wait,” she stopped him. “My bag…”

“Where is it?” Sabrina pointed to where she had dropped it on her dresser in blind pain earlier. He grabbed the bag he thought was unnecessarily large and slung it over his shoulder.

“Make sure my laptop is in there,” she directed. “And my charger. Phone charger, too.” Nick dutifully checked the bag to confirm the laptop as well as the chargers were there. “My phone.” She handed him her iPhone. He dropped it into the bag. “Oh, and my book…”

Nick looked at her as he picked up the book she had been reading in the evenings from the nightstand and dropped it into the bag.

“You planning on moving out, Spellman?” he wondered. He leaned over the bed and snagged his own book from his side of the bed, thinking she might be onto something. He had a feeling they wouldn’t be coming home that night.

“It always takes a long time to be seen at the hospital,” she said. “Entertainment.”

“I’m willing to bet extreme abdominal pain will speed up your admittance.” Her bag on his shoulder, he scooped her up into his arms.

“I can walk,” she said even as she rested her head on his shoulder.

“I only just got full use of both my shoulder and my foot. Let me flex my masculinity by carrying my girlfriend to the car.” Despite her pain, Sabrina chuckled into his shoulder.

He got her to the ER in record time. As he suspected, she was admitted quickly once she was triaged. He was left to sulk in the waiting room while they took her for scans. He didn’t like not being with her. He blew out a breath and called Ambrose.

“Scratch,” he greeted. “This better not be work related. I’ve had it up to here with courtrooms and paperwork today.”

“This is Sabrina related,” Nick answered, well aware that Ambrose had spent his day in traffic court. “I found her bawled up in pain in our bed when I got home. She has a fever and she’s nauseous. I brought her to the ER.”

“Is she okay?” Ambrose sounded urgent. “What are the doctors saying?”

“We haven’t been here long. Her fever was 101 and I overheard the nurse tell her doctor her heart rate was a little higher and her blood pressure low. They took blood and gave her something for pain. They just took her for a CT scan.”

“Dear God,” Ambrose breathed. “I’m on my way. I’ll call the aunts.” He hung up.

Nick dropped his head in his hands as worry filled him. He knew firsthand that the hospital in Greendale was good, that they would help Sabrina. But he didn’t like that he was helpless, that he wasn’t with her right now.

“Detective Scratch?” Nick lifted his head to find an ER nurse standing before him. “Ms. Spellman has identified you as her next of kin.”

Something warm washed over Nick.

Next of kin.

That was him.

“She’s my fiancée,” he confirmed.

“I thought I made out that word,” the nurse said kindly. “She’s a bit groggy with the pain meds, so her speech is slurred.”

“Is she back from her CT?”

“Not yet,” the nurse shook her head. “It shouldn’t be much longer.” She offered him a clipboard. “Could you fill out these forms for us? They’re just basic registration papers. We try to have the patient do it, but Ms. Spellman isn’t able to right now.” Nick nodded and took the clipboard. “Just bring them to the desk when you’re done.”

He took in the papers. First name. Last name. Address. Phone number. He filled in each line, taking extra care to write legibly given that his detective handwriting was constantly under fire for being hard to read. He wrote his own name and information down for her emergency contact, felt his heart swoop as he wrote ‘fiancé’ next to ‘relationship to patient.’ They had been engaged for a month now and he still found it hard to believe she had said yes.

When he reached the insurance section, he dug around in her bag, which he still had, and found her wallet. He paused when he opened it and found a photo of them from a few weeks ago, her kissing his cheek while he laughed, his arm around her. He remembered that moment. They were at Theo’s for a game night before Roz moved across the country for her new job. He and Sabrina had crushed Theo and Roz in a game of Heads Up and Theo captured their celebratory moment with his Polaroid. It also made him think of things they would have to figure out once they were married in a few months - insurance, joint checking accounts, name changes...

He hesitated when he got to the family medical history. He cringed a bit as he checked ‘cancer’ off, knowing Zelda had fought and beat breast cancer a few years back. But he didn’t know what else to check off. Of all the things they had discussed, they had never gotten into family medical history. He supposed that was something they should know about each other. She was most certainly his next-of-kin after all.

“Any word?”

Ambrose was there.

“That was fast.”

“I’m the police captain,” Ambrose reminded him. “Who’s going to pull me over?” Nick didn’t bother to argue.

“She’s still in CT,” he answered. “I’m filling out her registration papers. Any family medical history I need to check off?”

“Well, there’s Zelda’s cancer.”

“Got that,” Nick nodded.

“Other than that, we’ve been a pretty healthy bunch. Although Sabrina’s allergic to…”

“Mangos and bees,” Nick finished. She carried an Epipen in her purse. He had ensured one was in the glove compartment of the new car she bought a couple of months ago and he kept one in his Jeep as well. There was also one in her desk at the newspaper office, one in their bathroom and another in the first aid kit under the sink in their kitchen. All his doings. He was taking no chances and thought she was a little too flippant about her approach to it all. He had seen what anaphylactic shock could do to someone in his line of work.

“Mangos and bees,” Ambrose agreed. “Think it's her appendix?”

“That would be my guess,” Nick nodded. He sighed and ran a hand down his face. “She was in so much pain, Ambrose.”

“How long had it been going on?”

“She seemed okay this morning, but when the doctor asked in triage she confessed she felt off this morning and got progressively worse as the day went. She didn’t say anything to me about not feeling good.”

“She’s so stubborn.” Ambrose nudged Sabrina’s bag with his foot. “I like your purse by the way.”

“Shut up,” Nick grumbled. Ambrose chuckled next to him. “You called the aunts?”

“Miracle I beat them here, really. I suspect they will arrive calvary style any moment now.”

“Where’s Prudence?”

“Stayed home with the twins. You don’t want those toddling terrorists running around this place.”

Nick had to chuckle. It was an odd situation, Prudence raising her barely one-year-old brother and sister, Ambrose helping her. But it worked. And they really were toddling terrorists at the moment.

The sliding doors at the ER entrance burst open. Nick hadn’t known it was possible for sliding doors to burst open until Hilda and Zelda Spellman stormed them as though they were invading a castle.

“My niece,” Zelda strode up to the reception desk. “Sabrina Spellman. Where is she?”

Hilda, however, had spotted Nick and Ambrose.

“Nicholas!” He had no idea how the woman crossed the room. One moment she was at Zelda’s side, the next she was pulling him to his feet. “Where is she?” Her hands gripped around his biceps. “How is she?”

“They took her for a CT scan,” he reported. He thought he might have bruises in the shape of her fingertips come morning. “They haven’t brought her back yet.”

Zelda elbowed her way to Nick.

“What happened?” she demanded. “She was fine when I spoke to her last night.”

“She seemed fine this morning,” Nick countered. He rubbed his arm once Hilda released him. “Apparently she felt a little queasy but didn’t say anything to me. It got worse throughout the day and by the time I got home she was curled up in pain in our bed. She has a fever. I’m pretty sure it’s her appendix.”

“Pretty sure?” Zelda repeated. “That’s not good enough, Nicholas.”

Nick raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not a doctor,” he reminded her. “It’s my best guess. I mentioned it to her doctor, but all he said in response was she needed a full exam.”

“Easy now, Zelda,” Hilda said. “Nicholas is right - he’s no doctor. He got her here and she’s under doctor care now. That’s what matters.”

Zelda seemed to soften slightly.

“I suppose,” she agreed. “They are taking far too long…”

“They are being thorough,” Ambrose said. “Have a seat, aunties. All we can do is wait.”

The four of them settled into a row of chairs. There was a few minutes of quiet. Ambrose played with his phone. Hilda nervously twiddled her thumbs. Nick tapped out a nervous beat on the clipboard he still held. Zelda sat stiff and stewing. It was her who broke the silence.

“I suppose there are forms that need to be filled out.”

She made to stand.

“I’ve done it,” Nick answered.

Zelda looked at her.

“You’ve filled out her intake forms?”

“A nurse asked me to.” He felt like he had done something wrong. “Ambrose helped me with the family history.”

“Let me see those.” She snatched the clipboard away from him before he could register the request. She eyed it critically. “That’s not her address…”

“Yes, it is,” Nick argued. “I think I know our address.”

Zelda looked at him for a moment.

“I suppose she does live with you now, doesn’t she?” She didn’t wait for an answer as her eyes continued to scroll the paper. “I see you’ve listed yourself as her next of kin.”

“Sabrina did that. But I am going to be her husband soon.”

He held Zelda’s eyes with his own. He saw the situation for what it was. For Sabrina’s entire life, Zelda had been the one to fill out her medical forms and write herself down as next of kin. She was now being faced with a changing of the guard. Nick was Sabrina’s soon-to-be husband. She had moved out of the mortuary, started her life with him. She would always be Zelda’s niece and pseudo daughter, but it was Nick that would be there to fill out forms and receive emergency contact calls.

“Well, you did a fine job,” Zelda stated. Nick took that as a glowing praise. He ignored Ambose who chuckled at his expense beside him. It was only a few more minutes before a nurse approached.

“Detective Scratch? Sabrina is back in her room. You can head back there.”

“Thank you,” Nick nodded. “I have these…” he handed her the clipboard.

“Do you remember where she is?”

“Room seventy,” he confirmed. Zelda stood to follow him. He had no intention of stopping her, but the nurse, however, did. He made his exit with no desire to stick around and see how that ended. He zigzagged through the hospital ER and found her room. She was half out of it and still too pale for his liking. “Hey babe,” he greeted. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her hair. “How are you feeling?”

“Nick,” she sighed.

“I’m here.” He perched on the edge of her bed. “How’s the pain?”

“Better. But I feel awful.”

“You’re in good hands,” he promised her as he brushed her hair back. She still had a fever. “Your aunts and Ambrose are in the waiting room. Zelda wasn’t too impressed with my being your next of kin.”

“You’re my husband,” Sabrina mumbled. Nick smiled.

“Almost,” he agreed. “A few more months.”

“Same thing.”

He chuckled.

“Do you need anything?”

Sabrina just shook her head. Nick sat with her, holding her hand as she dozed off, and waited for the eruption of the Spellmans into her small ER room. It hadn’t come yet.

“Detective Scratch,” came a voice. “I thought I’d find you here.”

A doctor Nick recognized from his own hospital stay entered the room.

“Dr. Chatham,” he greeted. “I’d say it's good to see you, but…” The man chuckled a bit.

“That’s fair,” he agreed. “Ms. Spellman, how is your pain? Scale of 1-10?”

“Hmmm a six I think,” Sabrina managed. Nick didn’t like that. A one was too high, but a six was unacceptable.

“That’s better than the twelve you gave me earlier,” Dr. Chatham made a note for himself. “I had a chance to review your CT and you do, in fact, have appendicitis.”

“She’ll need surgery,” Nick said. Deep down, he had felt certain it would come to that. But having confirmation made his own stomach swim.

“She will. We will head to the ER soon. Unfortunately, there was a partial rupture of your appendix, Ms. Spellman. It’s not uncommon, but it does allow the infection to leak into the rest of your abdomen.”

Nick’s blood ran cold. That sounded far more serious than simply plucking out her appendix.

“What does that mean?” Sabrina half slurred in her groggy state.

“It means we’re going to have to clean out your abdomen while we’re removing your appendix. It sounds far worse than it is, but unfortunately, we’re not going to be able to do it laparoscopically.”

“It’s going to be a more invasive surgery,” Nick deciphered.

“Yes,” Dr. Chatham confirmed. “But Sabrina, you are young and healthy. We will take the appendix, remove the infection, and get you started on a course of antibiotics. You will hang out with us here for a couple of days and then we will send you home to recover as long as all goes well. Everything will be fine.”

“Okay,” Sabrina just nodded.

“When is surgery?” Nick asked.

“Very soon. They should be coming to prep you for surgery any moment now.”

“Could her aunts and cousin see her before she goes?” Nick asked. “They are in the waiting room. “

“Of course,” the doctor agreed. “It will have to be a short visit, but I know the mayor will settle for nothing less than seeing Sabrina pre surgery.”

He left them with a promise to check in before Sabrina went to the OR.

“I have to have surgery,” Sabrina said. Nick sensed her fear settling in.

“To make you better,” he told her. “It’s going to be okay, Sabrina. I’ll stay with you as long as I can and I’ll be with you when you wake up.” He kissed her hair again. “I won’t leave your side.”

The next half hour passed in a blur. Nick fetched the Spellmans and the medical staff had a hell of a time kicking them all out so they could take Sabrina to surgery. While the aunts seemed content to wait, Nick couldn’t sit still.

He understood what Sabrina had gone through when he was the one in the OR. He reasoned it had been even worse for her. She had just gone through utter hell with Harvey and didn’t know if he was going to survive surgery. At least he had the chance to kiss her and tell her he loved her before she was taken to the OR. He’d heard from Ambrose how Sabrina had broken down once they took him, unconscious and bleeding out, out of the hunting cabin to transport him to meet an ambulance. He had the knowledge that this was a routine surgery, that she would likely be fine. Still, he couldn’t help but worry.

It felt like hours, but was no more than two before her surgeon emerged. All eyes went to him. He smiled and Nick felt relief wash over him. Surgeons didn’t smile if things didn’t go well.

“Surgery went perfectly,” he told them. “She’s in recovery and you will be able to see her soon.”

“You got the infection?” Nick clarified.

“We did. We’ve already started her on antibiotics. She will be sore for a few days and because it was a more invasive surgery, recovery will be a bit longer, but she will be fine.”

“Thank you,” NIck breathed. “Thank you so much.”

“Just doing my job,” the surgeon said. He nodded at the Spellmans and disappeared back down the hall.

“She’s going to be fine,” Hilda said. “Thank God. I was so worried. “

“I think I’m going to head home,” Ambrose announced. Everyone looked at him.

“You’re not going to wait to see Sabrina?” Zelda wondered.

“It’s nearly midnight,” Ambrose said. “It will be a bit before she’s allowed visitors and he’ll be the one she wants.” He jerked his thumb at Nick. “I’ve got an early day tomorrow and I suspect my best detective will be out of office. Besides, Prudence could likely use my help with the toddling terrorists.”

“Stop calling them that,” Hilda chided.

“They are what they are,” Ambrose shrugged.

“I’m your only detective,” Nick added. “And yes, Captain, I’ll be out tomorrow. Likely the rest of the week.”

“That’s settled then.” Ambrose got to his feet. “Nicholas, tell Sabrina I’ll be by to see her sometime tomorrow. Take the week off. I’ll let you know if anything important comes up. If either of you need anything…”

“Thanks, Ambrose,” Nick nodded.

Nearly an hour passed before a nurse fetched Nick. Again, he hurried away, leaving the nurse to deal with Zelda’s displeasure about the one visitor per patient in recovery rule. Sabrina had asked for him after all. He found her room and slipped inside. He paused for a moment and took her in as she dozed. She was still pale, but she already looked better. He went to her side and tucked a chunk of hair that had fallen over her face behind her ear. She stirred.

“Nick.”

Her voice was raspy from the intubation during surgery.

“Hey babe,” he greeted as he perched on the edge of her bed. “The doctor said surgery went well. How are you feeling?”

“I don’t,” she said. “Everything is foggy.”

Nick remembered the feeling. He too had been disoriented when he came to post surgery. It had been hard to figure out where he was, let alone pinpoint how he felt when everything was so hazy and he was full of drugs that kept him from feeling anything in the first place. He reasoned Sabrina was already better off than he had been after the emergency surgery that saved his life. He had been largely out of it for a few days.

“You’ve got the good drugs,” he said. “No pain?”

“I feel sore. And like I could sleep for a week.”

“Sleep,” Nick encouraged. “I’m here. Your aunts are in the waiting room. Ambrose went home, but he said he will stop by sometime tomorrow.”

“I’ll be home tomorrow,” Sabrina mumbled.

“I don’t think so,” Nick shook his head. “You had a pretty big surgery, Spellman. I think you’re going to be hanging out here for a couple of days at least.”

“You’ll stay?” she asked.

“I wouldn’t dream of leaving,” he promised. “It’s my turn to take care of you. I’m rather looking forward to it.” That made her smile a little bit. “Rest,” he encouraged. “I’ll be right here. Unless Zelda takes me out. She’s not entirely thrilled that she wasn’t allowed to see you.”

“I wanted you,” Sabrina said as her eyes grew heavy. “I always want you.”

Nick leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“You’ll always have me.”

* * *

“May I see my niece now?”

Nick sighed as he returned to Hilda and Zelda in the waiting room. Hilda was as content as he had left her, but Zelda was even more cross.

“They are moving her into a room,” he said. “The nurse will let us know when she’s settled. She said she will allow the pair of you to visit Sabrina for a few minutes, but it’s technically not visiting hours.”

“Well, we aren’t leaving her alone,” Zelda stated.

“I’m staying,” Nick said. “I’ll be with her.”

Hilda spotted Zelda’s sharp look.

“How about I fetch us all some coffee, hmm?” she proposed. “It’s late and we could all use a pick me up.” She didn’t wait for an answer before she was bustling off. Nick braced himself to bring up what he thought was behind Zelda’s underlying animosity.

“I know this is hard for you,” he started.

“My niece just had her abdomen cut open and I haven’t been allowed to lay eyes on her. Of course I’m not having a wonderful evening, Nicholas.”

“I meant the fact that Sabrina asked for me,” he said. “That I’m her next of kin, the one filling out her forms. That role has been yours her entire life. I’m the guy moving in on you.”

Zelda looked down her nose at Nick. He didn’t waver.

“As I have been reminded several times now, you are her fiancé. The role of next of kin falls to you now.”

“You are still her aunt,” Nick reminded Zelda. “You are still one of the most important people in her life. She didn’t take someone important away from her stash to add me. She added one more person that loves her and will do anything for her to her already pretty long list.”

Zelda blew out a breath, taking in his words. She didn’t like to show her emotions and she didn’t especially want to show them to Nicholas Scratch, even if he were as good as family and soon would be in the official sense. Still, she had to admit he was right.

“Sabrina is in good hands with you,” she admitted. “I know that.”

It was as good as he was going to get out of her and he knew what it was - Zelda Spellman acknowledging that there had been a changing of the guard.

“She is,” Nick promised. He cracked a bit of a grin. “Although I will take appendicitis over a serial killer any day.”

Zelda snorted.

“That’s logic I can’t argue with,” she agreed. “She’s doing okay?”

“She’s still pretty out of it, but she doesn’t seem to be in any pain at the moment. She said she was sore and she’s groggy. They have her on antibiotics and painkillers, so I suppose that’s to be expected. She was asleep when I had to leave her.”

Hilda returned juggling a carrier of hospital coffee cups.

“It’s not much,” she said as she passed them out. “The coffee cart is closed, so it’s just drip coffee from the cafeteria that’s probably old.”

Zelda considered her cup as though it were the most interesting thing in the world. Nick took a sip of his and made a face. Hilda was right - it was old, bitter, and, he thought, burnt.

“Hilda, why don’t you and I head home?”

Both Nick and Hilda looked at Zelda as though she had sprouted two heads.

“Home?” Hilda repeated. Surely she hadn’t heard Zelda correctly.

“Nicholas assures me Sabrina is doing fine. He says she’s groggy, sore. She’s been through a lot in the last several hours and it’s well after midnight. Nicholas plans to stay with her. Why don’t we go home and get some rest ourselves? We will come back first thing in the morning, bring them breakfast.”

Hilda looked dumbfounded at the idea of Zelda retreating, but Nick understood. It was a peace treaty. She trusted him with Sabrina.

“I… Well… Of course I want to make sure Sabrina is okay,” Hilda stumbled. “But I thought about having Ambrose take me home when he left. It’s late, after all, and I’m sure she would rather rest than have us hovering over her. I didn’t want to leave you here though…”

“We’ll go home,” Zelda decided. “Nicholas? You will call right away if there is any change. Otherwise, tell Sabrina we will see her in the morning.”

“Of course,” Nick promised. Hilda reached to hug him.

“Thank you for taking such good care of our girl,” she told him. “Let her know we love her. Anything in particular you would like for breakfast in the morning?”

“I’m sure Sabrina would love some blueberry pancakes,” he said, thinking of her first. “I’m not sure she’ll be able to eat them though. They’ll have her on a strict diet at first, probably…”

“I’ll make the pancakes and we’ll see if she can eat them,” Hilda waved a hand. “But what about you, love? What can I make you?”

“You don’t have to make me anything special. I’ll just eat what Sabrina eats…”

“Nonsense,” Zelda snipped. “What do you want to eat, Nicholas? Tell us and we will ensure you get it.”

Again, Nick recognized the gesture for what it was. Hilda doled out her care through food. Zelda knew that and extended the same favor.

“I wouldn’t hate a bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich,” Nick said. He didn’t know what Hilda did to hers, but they simply tasted better. “And maybe some non-hospital issued coffee?”

“Consider it done.” Hilda patted his cheek. “Call if you need us, dear.”

Nick blew out a sigh of relief when they left. He was content to sit alone in the waiting room and appreciate the peace and quiet for a while. He knew he was marrying into a tight knit family. He loved that, loved that he would be a part of it. Sometimes it still overwhelmed him though. He simply wasn’t used to it. But he liked it.

He liked it a lot.

* * *

Sabrina woke slowly. It took her a moment to realize she was in the hospital. She remembered then that she had been through surgery. Remembering it seemed to also remind her body that it was sore. She gasped softly as a flash of discomfort stabbed through her. It was enough of a sound, as quiet as it was, to wake Nick from where he had slept for a few hours on the visitor’s couch the night before.

“Sabrina?” He stood and went to her in two steps. “Hey babe.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “How are you feeling?”

“Pretty sore,” she admitted. “I think if I move, I might regret everything.”

“Then don’t move,” Nick shook his head. “Let’s get someone in here to check you out.”

“Nick…”

“No protesting,” he cut her off gently. “I’m in charge now.”

“Are you though?” Sabrina asked with a hint of her usual sass.

“It won’t last long,” Nick amended. “But you took such great care of me for weeks when I was down a few months ago. It’s my turn and I’ve got a tough act to follow.” He kissed her hair again and called for a nurse. “Behave yourself and they might even let you go home sooner rather than later.”

Sabrina thought Nick had a point. She complied with the nurse and doctor’s wishes and let them poke and prod her. She moved slow, but she was able to get to her feet and walk around the room a bit. Nick stayed out of the way, yet was somehow always within arm’s reach if she needed him.

“You’re on the right path,” the doctor said as she settled back into bed. “We’re going to keep you at least one more day…” Sabrina groaned. “You had a pretty major abdominal surgery, and we want to make sure everything continues to go well, especially given that you had a partial rupture of your appendix.”

“But…,” Sabrina started to protest.

“Spellman, don’t waste your breath,” Nick spoke up. “You’re staying put until the doctor says you’re good to go home.”

The doctor’s eye’s sparkled.

“My, how the tables have turned,” he mused, remembering a very similar conversation between Nick and Sabrina when it was Nick in the hospital bed. Sabrina seethed. Nick chuckled.

“Her aunts are planning to bring breakfast,” he said. “I’m actually surprised they aren’t here already. Is there anything she can’t have to eat?”

“I’d like you to stick to a bland, low fat diet,” the doctor directed. “Nothing too heavy for a few days.”

“Where do blueberry pancakes fall into that?” Nick continued. “I believe there is a container of them somewhere between the Spellman mortuary and this hospital room.”

“No butter,” the doctor said. “And only a trace of syrup. I wouldn’t overdue it, but I think you can manage a pancake or two. No coffee though - the acid isn’t good for your digestive system as it recovers. Give that a few days. Herbal tea would be fine though.”

When the doctor left, Nick perched on the edge of Sabrina’s bed and took her hand.

“Where is Dublin?” Sabrina asked. “If you’ve been here…”

“I asked Ambrose to stop by,” Nick said. “If we’re only here a couple of days, she’ll be okay enough at home if Ambrose doesn’t mind popping in a few times a day.”

Sabrina didn’t bother arguing. She didn’t have it in her.

“Know what would make me feel better?” she asked.

“Name it.”

“A proper good morning kiss.”

Nick smiled.

“Done.” He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. He kept it short and sweet, but made sure she knew he loved her. “You should have called me, Spellman,” he said when he pulled away. “As soon as the pain got to be too much, you should have called me. I would have come and we would have gotten you here sooner.”

“I really thought it was just a stomachache,” she said. Nick responded by kissing her forehead again.

“Need anything?” he asked. “Some water, maybe?”

“Water would be good,” Sabrina nodded. Nick filled the hospital-issued water bottle for her and brought it back. “Is it worth telling you to go home, get a change of clothes, maybe see your dog and sleep for a few hours?”

“It’s a waste of breath,” Nick confirmed. “Besides, there’s a breakfast sandwich from Hilda’s kitchen supposedly on its way to me. Can’t miss that, can I?”

“Could I convince you if I asked you to go home and get me my own pajamas?” Sabrina continued. “Not right now, but maybe in a little bit?”

“That I’d be willing to do,” Nick confirmed. He brushed her hair back. “You scared me last night, Spellman.”

“Not fun to be on the other side of it, is it?” she asked.

“Probably about as much fun as it was for you to be on the patient side of it,” he confirmed. “I think I had a fight with Zelda, too.”

“You think?”

“She was a little put out that I’m your emergency contact.”

“I remember you mentioning something about that while I was out of it last night,” Sabrina nodded.

“It wasn’t a fight per se,” he continued. “I just acknowledged that it had to be weird for her to take a step back and let me be the one to take care of you. I told her I wasn’t taking her place, just that you added someone to your roster of people who care about you. That seemed to temper her. So much so she and Hilda actually went home without seeing you last night.”

“I wondered about that,” Sabrina admitted. “I didn’t mind them not being around. I love them, but I was so out of it and it just would have been a lot of fussing over me and all I wanted was to sleep and maybe hold your hand.”

“Which is exactly what you got.”

Nick leaned in and kissed her again.

“I love you, Spellman.”

“I love you, Scratch.”

There was a knock on the door. It opened a moment later.

“Can we come in?” came Hilda’s hushed voice.

“Oh, please, Hilda, it’s nine o’clock in the morning. It’s a perfectly acceptable time to enter someone’s hospital room.”

“It’s also exactly the time hospital visiting hours start,” Nick muttered to Sabrina as her aunts poured into the room. Ambrose brought up the rear. All of them carried a container of some sort.

“I timed this well,” Ambrose announced. “Just in time for breakfast it seems.”

“I’m sure that was coincidental,” Nick whispered to Sabrina. She chuckled but regretted it as it made the incision site pang in pain.

“How are you feeling, love?” Hilda asked as she started unpacking food.

“Better than yesterday,” Sabrina said. “Are those blueberry pancakes?”

“Nicholas thought you would like them,” Zelda answered. “There’s plain toast and oatmeal if you need something more bland.”

“Nick asked the doctor if I could eat pancakes,” Sabrina told them as she tried to sit up. Nick was there to help her. “He said I could.”

“He said she could have pancakes with no butter and just a little syrup,” Nick corrected. That earned him a glare from Sabrina. He ignored it. “And she’s going to be here another day or two, but she’s healing well.”

“Acceptable,” Zelda nodded. She reached into one of the bags they brought with them and produced a wrapped sandwich. “Nicholas? Your breakfast.”

Nick smiled and accepted it.

It wasn’t just a breakfast sandwich.

It was a reminder that he was a part of their family.

* * *

Nick was careful as he opened the front door to their house. Dublin was there, excited to greet them in her exuberant way.

“Hey girl,” he greeted. He managed to scratch her behind one of her ears despite how full his hands were. “Sitz.” She sat. “Bleib.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” came Sabrina’s voice. “I want to see my dog.”

“Your dog?” he asked even as he opened the door wider once he was satisfied Dublin wouldn’t jump on a fresh out of the hospital Sabrina. Dublin whined but didn’t move from her spot. “When did that exchange of ownership happen?”

“The night of our first date,” Sabrina quipped. “I’ve been slowly stealing your dog for nearly a year now.” Nick just grinned, put down the bag he was carrying, and put a hand on Sabrina’s low back. “You’ve officially lost her, Scratch.”

“And yet I gained you,” he said. “So I win.” He stood by as Sabrina greeted Dublin. She gave the command to release Dublin from her stay and wandered into the house, Dublin at her heels. “Your aunts were here,” Nick said as he picked up her bag once more. “It smells like them.”

“Like freshly baked bread, casseroles, and lysol,” Sabrina confirmed. “Bets on how long we’ve got until they stop by?”

“I told Hilda I’d text when we left the hospital.” Nick smirked. “I haven’t sent that text yet.”

Sabrina laughed. It tugged at her stitches a bit, but it wasn’t unbearable. She was two days post surgery and she felt pretty okay, enough so she was able to be sprung from the hospital. She was just glad to be home.

“Maybe wait another hour or so?” she requested. “We won’t be able to get away with it much longer than that, but a few minutes to adjust to being home would be lovely. They’ll kill us if we wait too long.”

“Done,” Nick said. “But I’m texting at the one hour mark. This could be an elaborate plot to off me - which Zelda would do if I don’t text soon. But I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and say you haven’t figured out that you’re the recipient of my life insurance policy even though we aren’t married yet and aren’t working with your aunts to end me prematurely.”

“I’m the recipient of your life insurance policy?” Sabrina asked as she took a seat on the couch, Dublin with her. “When did that happen?”

“When Nonna died,” he answered. “We weren’t engaged yet, but I knew I was going to propose. She was my recipient until her death, so when I had to update the paperwork, I went ahead and put you down.” He joined her on the couch and stretched his legs out, propping his feet up on the coffee table. It felt good to sit down on his couch after the last two days at the hospital.

“That’s very adult of you,” Sabrina mused.

“I was thinking about a lot of that stuff while I was filling out your medical forms,” he admitted. “I knew the basic stuff, but I didn’t know your family’s medical history, thought that was something we should know about each other. And then we need to figure out things like health insurance once we’re married. Will you be on my policy? Will I be on your policy? Will we keep our own policies? What about bank accounts? Joint? Separate? And we talked about kids, so we should probably talk about those savings accounts you open, the ones for college? What are they called?”

“I think they’re called 529s plans,” Sabrina said with a smile. “A few hospital forms made you think about all of that?”

“My fiancé was having her insides scanned and I was stuck in a waiting room filling out forms. My thoughts spiraled.”

“They really did,” Sabrina confirmed. She reached out and brushed her hand through his curls. “We have plenty of time to figure all of that out, Scratch. And better news, I’m not planning to off you for your life insurance policy anytime soon. I kind of like having you around.”

“Good to know.” He leaned in and kissed her. “How are you feeling? Need anything?”

“I feel okay and I’m good right now,” she assured him. “I know we have to humor my aunts and let them come over for a bit, but all I really want is to sit on the couch, watch trash television, and eat junk food.”

“I can’t think of much junk food that’s also ‘bland,’” Nick said.

“Vanilla ice cream,” Sabrina said easily.

“That’s not bland, that’s dairy.”

“Vanilla ice cream is as bland as you get,” Sabrina insisted. “And the doctor said I could start introducing more foods. I’m having ice cream, Scratch.”

“Fine,” Nick relented. “After your aunts leave, we’ll have vanilla ice cream and watch your trash TV.” He nuzzled her neck. “Make me a deal?”

“What are the terms?” she countered.

“No more hospitals for a long while. Unless we’re going there to have our first kid in which case it needs to be an easy, effortless delivery for both of our sanities.”

“We’ve been through it, haven’t we?” Sabrina mused.

“Let’s take a tally, shall we?” Nick put his arm around her shoulders and she settled in close to him. “We met at the end of August. I took you on a date at the end of September. There was the whole serial killer thing. You confronted said killer and I got shot two days before Thanksgiving. There was foot surgery a few days before Christmas, a visit to New York, my grandmother died in the early morning hours the day after Valentine’s Day. I was an ass for a few weeks, we had a fight in New York I still feel the need to apologize for, you threw me a surprise birthday party a few weeks later, I asked you to marry me a month ago, and now, here we are, the end of May, on our couch, you down an organ. Did I get it all?”

“You forgot the very big fight we had a couple of weeks before Thanksgiving in which I broke up with you,” Sabrina reminded him.

“Yeah, I’ve bleached my memory of that particular moment.” He kissed her temple. “I love you, Spellman.”

“Enough to make me the recipient of your insurance policy,” Sabrina quipped. Nick chuckled. “I love you too, Scratch. More than anything. Even the vanilla ice cream I’ve got my heart set on.”

“Even more than my dog?” he asked, eyes shining.

“Well, I love you more, but I might like her more sometimes.”

“Fair,” Nick agreed. His fingers played with her hair. “Sure you don’t need anything? I’m aware that I have a small window of opportunity in which I get to play caregiver and I plan to take full advantage of it.”

“Maybe send that text to my aunts?” she proposed. “The sooner they come, the sooner they’ll go and the sooner I can have my ice cream.”

“Consider it done, Spellman.” He took his phone out of his pocket and tapped out the text. “I would estimate we’ve got about fifteen minutes left.”

“Plenty of time.”

“For what?” Nick asked.

“For this.” Sabrina snuggled close to Nick. He pulled her in even closer and kissed her hair.

“Marry me, Spellman?” he asked.

“Sure,” Sabrina agreed. “Right after you increase your life insurance policy though.”

Nick laughed heartily.

“The countdown on my phone - that I didn’t put there, mind you - tells me I’ve got ninety-three days to do that.”

“Just didn’t want you to forget the wedding date,” Sabrina said fondly. She rested her head on his shoulder. “I bought a really great dress for the occasion.”

“I can’t wait,” Nick said truthfully.

There was a knock at the door. They looked at each other. Dublin bolted for it, tail wagging, a telltale sign it was Hilda, the only person aside from them she greeted exuberantly. They could hear the faint sounds of Hilda and Zelda bickering on the doorstep.

“How do they do that?” Sabrina wondered. “You literally just texted them.”

“Remind me to pull up the security footage when they leave,” Nick said as he gently untangled himself to stand from Sabrina and go to the door. “I’m going to prove they were waiting down the street. It’s the only logical answer.”

Sabrina laughed and laid down on the couch.

“Toss me the blanket that’s hanging over the chair?” she asked. Nick did so and paused to watch her cover up and snuggle into the couch. He raised an eyebrow in question. “I’m trying to look like I feel worse than I do,” she explained. “If they think I’m not up for company, they’ll leave faster.”

“Diabolical,” Nick approved. There was another knock. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Sabrina nodded. She watched Nick disappear through the living room door. “Nick?” He took a few steps backwards to reappear in the doorway with a raised eyebrow. She smiled. “I love you.”

He beamed.

“Love you too, Spellman. Even without your appendix.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These two really have been through it, and they haven't even been together all that long, have they? Wonder if the aunts fell for Sabrina's act? But I think I was mostly here for the Zelda/Nick scenes. 
> 
> Let me know what you thought of this fun one shot! More coming soon!

**Author's Note:**

> Got any 'Off The Record' missing scenes you'd like to see written out? Let me know! I make no promises, but I'm taking prompts/requests! (Seriously - I should work at work. But I work fast and have to fill my time somehow...)


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